Spoils of the Heart
by LotornoMiko
Summary: To the victor goes the spoils. Lenneth knows and accepts this. Just as she knows Lezard is just the latest in a long line of them. Can she continue to guard her heart, even as she gives up her body? Especially when she's sure he won't be the last?
1. Chapter 1

Standard Disclaimer Time! I do not own Lezard, Lenneth, or the game Valkyrie Profile. That honor belongs to Square Enix and Tri Ace. I make no money off of this story. This is done purely for entertainment purposes. And that I have too many ideas! XD

-Michelle

There are things she is used to. Situations and circumstances that are repeated in her life, again and again, and only the faces of her tormentors change. They are not always with her long. Some have only held her for the briefest of time. While others have made the attempt, wanting to possess her, only to fail. To Lenneth, it matters not who wins, who loses. Her situation remains the same. A prisoner. Valued for her beauty, her strength, her abilities. Hunted down like an animal because of them, hurt and used because of them.

Lenneth has been little more than a slave, a toy. God after God, and other equally powerful beings wanting her. Using her. She's been assassin, guardian, even Chooser of the slain. But most of all, she's been a whore. Forced to spread her legs again and again, her masters taking up position between them. Seeking pleasure from her, taking it. Enjoying her body, her beauty, her screams.

It's been like this for as long as Lenneth can remember. Ever since she had first been created, her so called father Odin, abusing her. She's played emissary between the Gods and the other races, gone as far as to decide the fates of the mortals whose souls hang in the balance. She's seen the destruction and rebirth of the nine realms, survived it all, and yet little has changed.

Lezard won't be any different, Lenneth tells herself. He will use her, may even tire of her one day. But eventually, someone stronger will come along. Someone who knows just a little more, someone who is faster, or more powerful. That someone will take her from him, and the cycle will begin again. Lezard won't even merit a footnote in the long history of Lenneth's life. He'll be less than nothing, he'll be forgotten.

As forgotten as any other who has come before him, only a handful of names sticking out as memorable. But never special. Lenneth holds no love in her heart for those who have come before Lezard. For those who have held her chain. Not even her so called father, her creator Odin, merits anything more than her disgust. She doesn't even have the energy to properly hate, Lenneth resigned to the fate destiny had laid out before her. She has after all been created to be a slave of the Gods, Odin himself crafting her to be everything another could covet.

Lenneth is of pleasing form. Her beauty that break taking touch of ethereal. Odin himself saw to her creation, his own hands molding her form. Gifting her with the attributes that attract so many to her. Her unblemished skin, pale like porcelain. The long, winding hair, a shimmering platinum blue that reaches down to the back of her knees. Her piercing blue eyes that sees far too much of the evils done to her, and for her. And soft pouty lips that are almost never kissed.

She is more generously curved than befits the warrior Odin sometimes has her be. Lenneth's body seems designed for sin, and no one, not even her Creator, has been able to resist the siren's lure of it. Lenneth has been used, degraded in some of the worst manners possible by those who seek to own her. Her body has born the bruises, the imperfect marks that fade from her skin but remain a stain on her soul. She's been hurt, beaten and burned, punished for her lack of affection towards those who would rule over her with an iron fist.

Lenneth has endured this for countless millennia. The faces change, bodies hovering over hers. Pounding relentlessly inside her. Choking her with their need, their all consuming desire. She's long since stopped reacting to them, burying her grief, deadening her emotions. Sometimes her lack of resistance, her abandonment of her emotions, angers her masters. Some want everything from her, to take every last bit of her soul in their hands. They want her joy, they want her tears. They want Lenneth to want them as much as they want her.

They've never tried to win her loyalty through kindness. Never tried to actually love her. They only lust and covet. Hurting her with this obsessive need to possess that only succeeds in destroying them all. Wars have been fought over Lenneth, people have died in the attempt to posses her. To steal her away from those who have had her. Lenneth can't even laugh over this, knowing it is sheer madness that surrounds her. It has to be, for there can be no other explanation for the lengths others will go through to possess a single soul. Especially one as dirty and used as hers is.

Lenneth understands it will always be like this. She will always be sought after, always made a slave. It is foolish to hope for anything more, to dream of a better future. And yet for one brief moment in the never ending eternity, the dreams she tried to refuse, had been realized. Lenneth had been set free, by her own hand no less. Taking power, and using it to elevate herself up from slave to master.

A bitterness fills her. And all because it might have been better to not have tasted that forbidden freedom. Lenneth now knows what she has been missing, what has been denied to her. And she is miserable for it. Miserable and longing for even one-second more, Lenneth wanting with every fiber of her being. She is not used to wanting anything. Certainly she never wanted her masters' touch. But freedom? It is something she has come to desire, to yearn for.

Lenneth had thought her days as a slave were over with. Odin himself had been killed, and she had not shed a tear for his passing. Lenneth had known others would come, the Goddess going off to face the latest in a long line of those who clamored to claim her for their own. His name had been Loki, the God half Aesir and half Vanir. A being who had fit in neither world, he had ruthlessly slain Odin in an attempt to bring about Ragnarok. But the ending of Creation wasn't his only goal. Loki had wanted to remake the nine realms, bring in a new world with new people living under his rule.

It was a mad ambition, but no less twisted than anything else those in power attempted to do throughout eternity. Lenneth might have welcomed the oblivion Loki could bring, if not for one small fact. The mad God had wanted Lenneth by his side. Not as his queen, for what God would deign to share power with that who was no more than a slave? Who could never be more than a victim.

Lenneth still wasn't sure what had happened. How she had stood up against Loki. How she had won the battle. By all rights he should have overpowered her, and yet in that moment she had evolved. She had become something more, something strong enough to take out a would be tormentor. Millennia of abuse, of anger, of disgust had built up inside her. Lenneth had used those long bottled emotions, to strike down the God and take from him the power needed to save Creation. To rule over it and more importantly, to rule over herself.

The freedom that followed had been glorious! No longer was she ordered around. No longer did Lenneth have to beg permission to do anything. She could walk, talk, even laugh and no one would question her. Lenneth's choices had become her own, the Goddess delighting in making decisions. In trying things she had never tried before. She'd build up her own kingdom, Lenneth filling it with the souls of mortals. Ruling over them with a far gentler hand than had ever been shown to her.

For the first time, eternity had not felt like a punishment. Lenneth could appreciate paradise, and the many splendors of the nine realms. Her heart had soared, Lenneth falling in love with the world she had ruled over. Loving the people there, and watching over them. Guiding them to grow and return that love she felt a hundred fold. The people themselves flourished, and they adored the Goddess they worshipped. Some perhaps too much, Lenneth never realizing the danger that was being groomed inside the heart of just one of the many mortals of the world.

She couldn't be vigilant every hour of the day. One mortal wouldn't have stood out for her notice, not when there were millions of them. She was in the thoughts of them all, loved, worshipped. Never had she dreamed anything sinister could form of that love. Or that such traitorous desires could be acted upon. It was Lenneth's folly to underestimate the mortals. To think she was safe from the fate that had tortured her for most of her eternity.

Lezard Valeth. That is his name. That is the madman who should never have had the power to take away Lenneth's new found freedom. And yet that is exactly what he is trying to do, the man finding a way to unravel time. To travel back some several hundred years, and play havoc with the past. He's rewritten history, manipulated time for his own ends, and violated laws like a savage. He's done it all for her. To lay his hands upon her flawless flesh. To twist her body against her, use it for his own desires.

Lenneth doesn't understand how exactly Lezard has managed to do what he has done, how he has managed to transcend his mortality to become something else. To become something far more dangerous than a human could ever be. But through his manipulations, he has become a God. A God that not only rivaled Odin, but surpassed him in power. And through the obtaining of that power, the world, the future had become endangered. As had Lenneth's freedom.

Lezard had left Lenneth no choice but to follow after him. To travel back in time, hoping to somehow undo the damage he had already done. Lenneth had had no other choice, no other way to save the world that she had grown to love. To remain in the present, was to be wiped away with the rest of existence as the new timeline forcibly replaced the old. But there had been a danger in going to the past, a price that had to be paid, whether Lenneth was willing or not.

In going to the past, her powers had diminished. Lenneth had become less than what she once was. She was no longer the powerful Goddess, the one who had vanquished Loki and had ruled over Creation. She was back to being that pitiable creature, the slave everyone desired. How could she ever hope to alone stand up against the new God? Lenneth couldn't, the Goddess seeking out allies. Finding the few souls who might be capable of stopping Lezard's madness.

She could count on six fingers the number of her allies. It was a pitiably small party, consisting of far too many that had all too human blood coursing through their veins. The princess of the fallen kingdom of Dipan was petite, and could barely hold up her own sword. And yet she was fueled by her determination, her desire to set things right. Besides her was the ever present figure of the half elf, a man who would have once been a vessel for Odin to use as he saw fit. The two of them should have been dead, but in this altered past, they lived to fight on.

There was another with human blood, a large, overly muscular man who wielded a blade nearly as long as his body. He was in the employ of the Valkyries, two battle maidens Lenneth could almost call sisters. They too had been created by Odin, though never had they suffered in quite the manner Lenneth had. She bore no grudges to them for the lives they had led, for having an existence that would seem carefree in comparison to her own.

The final member of this strange party, was a shock to Lenneth. It had nothing to do with what he was, Lenneth not caring that the vampire was Lord of all the Undead. But she remembered her dealings with him in a different time. A time when Brahms himself had sought to claim Lenneth for his own. She remembers the words he had spoke to her, the delusional look in his crimson colored eyes as Brahms talked about Lenneth being the one to comfort his soul through the long eternity of their lives. He had never gotten the chance to do more than speak to her, the vampire finding himself ill matched against Odin. Lenneth found it an ironic twist of fate, to now be working so closely with one who had coveted her once upon a time.

It made her leery of the vampire, Lenneth expecting betrayal at any moment. But she didn't chase him away, conscious that this man was an ally of the others. A trusted companion they had come to value. Whereas Lenneth was wary, she couldn't deny he was powerful. A power that might make a difference against the new God. She didn't dare hope that the vampire alone could defeat Lezard, but Lenneth thought he might prove useful as a distraction. Brahms might even tire out Lezard enough for Lenneth to finish off the would be ruler of Creation.

She'd worry about what would happen after Lezard had fallen. The task of repairing the damage timeline was Lenneth's to undertake. These six that accompanied her, would not favor a history where some of them were already dead. They'd rather forge a new future, one where they could be happy and prosper. Lenneth was working against them, her true intentions hidden. She did not want to remain in this era, did not want a future where she was weak enough to be forced back into the role of slave. Lenneth would fight her own allies if it came down to it, the Goddess determined to hold onto the freedom she had briefly tasted.

But before anything could be decided, before the alliance could unravel, they had a usurper to face. An arrogant mortal who had transcended from his humble beginnings, stealing power for himself at the cost of so many others. Lenneth kept from scowling, walking with an indifferent expression as she trailed behind her allies. They were climbing a steep staircase, the steps carved into the rock that sometimes crumbled under foot.

At the very top of the staircase, was a cluster of trees. Their gnarled limbs were without leaves, branches weaving together, to form a thorny canopy that worked as both ceiling and fence. There was only one opening to enter into whatever they guarded, and a bright, shining light that glowed golden spilled out between the cracks in the canopy.

The steps led to the opening, the determined party entering inside. The vampire had to stoop downwards to fit, his hair brushing against the lowest of the branches. Lenneth stepped forward, and instantly the light went out. They were left all blinded, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the sudden darkness. The branches seem to rustle, and then a chill wind was upon them. Blowing with enough force to cause them to fall back, everyone dropping to their knees.

They couldn't hear much of anything over the wind. Certainly they couldn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching. But the power was too immense to suppress completely, the very feel of it drawing near causing all to react. Lenneth herself felt an unwelcome shiver through her body, the Goddess raising up on one knee to stare at the approaching man.

He certainly didn't look like a God. At least not like any divine being she had been familiar with in the past. His thin frame hardly looked the type to hold the amount of power emanating off of him, his body more pampered mage than brawny warrior. But this man walked with a confidence, an arrogance born of what he had accomplished. The wind did not touch him, his brown hair staying unruffled. He was smiling, amethyst colored eyes touching upon each person's face, before they came to rest upon Lenneth. A surprising warmth filled his gaze, his smile softening as he looked at her.

"Lenneth Valkyrie..." He purred out her name with a familiarity Lezard had no right to. "I knew you would come."

Her braided hair was being blown back by the wind, the allies around her struggling to stand. Somehow she rose, making the movement graceful even at the effort it had taken her. "Of course I came." Lenneth told him, her own gaze meeting his. "There was no choice but for me to follow after you. To stop the damage you continue to do to our world's past."

"A crude but effective lure." Lezard said, shrugging as though what he had done wasn't one of the worse crimes ever. "But there was little else I could do to get your attention..."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the vampire beat Lenneth to the retort. "Pathetic wretch!" Brahms snarled. "All this was merely to satisfy your lust?"

She colored, Lenneth feeling the warmth fill her cheeks as well as several gazes on her. They were surely assessing her, wondering what her appeal was to have driven Lezard to go to such lengths. She felt anger boil within her, Lenneth feeling humiliated in response to the lust Brahms rightfully accused Lezard of having. It made her speak, the words springing from her embarrassment. And with them came anger, Lenneth pointing a finger at Lezard.

"You have blindly twisted nature, and destroyed worlds like a savage!" She accused. "As creator of the world that spawned you, I shall exact justice upon you!"

Lezard was seemingly unfazed by her threat, the man adjusting the glasses on his face. Those eyes shouldn't hold such delight in them, Lezard shouldn't be pleased by what Lenneth had said. And yet he was, staring at her with the oddest of smiles. "That icy gaze sends chills down my spine..." Somehow Lenneth managed to keep from sputtering in response, her own eyes narrowing into a glare.

"What is your game, human?" sneered one of the Valkyries. It was the one with the black hair, the one named Hrist. Her hand hovered over the pommel of her sword, but Hrist had yet to draw it. "Do you think to rule over all now that you are a God?"

He didn't even look towards the other Valkyrie, keeping his unsettling gaze on Lenneth. "Rule over all is but a fleeting fancy." He spoke to them all, though the way he stared at Lenneth, it was clear she was all who mattered among the group. "I have but one desire...to rule my beloved Goddess."

_~Of course.~_ Lenneth thought, her heart sinking at hearing those words. She had already known what his intent was. What had been the driving force behind his insane actions. And yet it pained her to hear the confirmation, to realize that this man was just like all the others from her past. Determined to own her. It was sheer madness, and yet it was happening. But Lenneth was determined to keep her fate changed, to retain the freedom she had been enjoying for months now.

"That will never happen." Lenneth wished she had the confidence she had just voiced, the Goddess drawing her own sword. The group around her reacted to the sight of her sword drawn, each moving into an aggressive stance with their own weapons out and in their hands.

Lezard shifted in place, his own posture taking on a defensive air. In his hands, the divine spear Gungnir appeared, the double bladed weapon almost as long as Lezard was tall. "You may try to deny it all you like." Lezard still looked at her as he talked, his smile lessening as he turned noticeably more serious. "I rule not only all matter, but time as well. You are here because I will it!"

"Enough talk!" She hissed, tension coiling in her legs. She was preparing to lunge forward, ready to thrust her sword into him. Lenneth didn't think it could end with just one strike, not when Lezard was the inheritor of Odin's power. At best the sword thrust would only annoy him. "You play with fire, and you will get burned!" She never heard his retort, Lenneth springing forward. Her arm was already raising, ready to slash downwards in a cut meant to tear open his chest. Gungnir was brought up, Lezard easily blocking her sword. But even as Lenneth fell back, another sword was swinging at Lezard. From the size of it, it was that human male, the Valkyrie's einherjar who tried to lop off Lezard's head.

Every time one warrior was knocked back, another would be there to take his or her's place. Even the tiny princess of Dipan lifted her sword in battle, trying to stab, thrust, even sever parts of Lezard. The vampire lord used his own claws to attack, and the Valkyrie's weapons sang with their movements. Sometimes a blow would land on Lezard, the cut slashing open clothing, tearing into skin. But such wounds served to do little buy annoy the God, Lezard's new found divinity healing the wounds before they could bleed even one drop.

Lenneth fought valiantly, trying not to give in to despair. She noted how Lezard was adapting to his powers, and it made her fear how much stronger he would become once he grew into his divinity. It made her desperate to end this now, Lenneth understanding they had little chance to win the longer the fight continued. She continued to fight, watching as her sword tip sliced open Lezard's cheek. Just as quickly it healed, the new God seeming unaware of the fact he had been struck in the face.

The fight would last for hours. Blow for blow being exchanged. A sword shattered, and the humans grew exhausted. The Valkyries and the vampire continued, tireless where the humans were not. The wind continued to blow, trying to force them off their feet as they fought. It was a battle that rivaled the one where Lenneth had fought against Loki. But unlike that fight, this battle would have a different outcome.

It was when Lenneth was standing practically shoulder to shoulder with the other two Valkyries, that Lezard's trap was revealed. He had been toying with them all along, waiting for the three Valkyries to be close enough together for a specific purpose. They were practically lined up in a row, when the ground beneath them began to glow. The lights were bright, but not enough to blind them. The light cast a blue glow on their skin, a visible wall of it surrounding them. It close in over their heads, trapping them inside a dome.

The very air seemed to make them choke, Lenneth struggling to breathe. Her sword fell from her hand, Lenneth clawing at the air, at the light that prevented her from leaving the dome. The other two Valkyries were attempting the same, their own weapons forgotten as they took gasping breaths. Somewhere a woman screamed, pain coursing through Lenneth as a white glow began burning runes into the floor beneath her very feet.

She couldn't even gasp with recognition, Lenneth knowing what those runes meant. Lezard was attempting to do the sovereign's rite, a spell meant to call back a Valkyrie's soul from her body. It was a spell few knew, and even less could perform. And yet Lezard was casting it with ease, fighting off Brahms as he focused his energy on hurting the Valkyries.

Lenneth could feel her body weakening, her soul twisting. Screaming with a pain she couldn't voice, Lenneth heard Brahms snarl out a desperate plea. "Stop! What will happen with no place for the Valkyries to be reborn or summoned?"

She couldn't see too well, Lenneth aware of movement out the corner of her eye. The vampire's vicious curse signaled an attack that had failed. And then Lezard was speaking, his voice calm, almost serene. "That means nothing to me. I am creator of this world. Is time you realized that fact."

Lenneth never heard Brahms' answer. She simply no longer had ears she could use. Her body was being abandoned, her soul drawn out of it. She tried one last time to scream, and then everything went black.

To Be Continued...

So I worried I'd have to do the scene exactly like in the game. But after watching it, I only kept a few lines from it. I'm glad to finally have this chapter finished!

This is a slight AU...Much the same as the game bu with some twists.

Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

The blackness was all consuming, her senses stripped from her. Lenneth was unable to feel anything, existing not as a person, but simply as a soul. A soul that had no body, and no awareness of what was occurring around it. Lenneth knew nothing of the great battles that would be fought on her behalf. Battles that occurred all around her, the violence unable to touch her.

She would know nothing. Lenneth couldn't even think in this form, could not remember or dream. She certainly couldn't actively plot, Lenneth unable to do anything to change her circumstance. It was a loss that was crippling, Lenneth nothing more than a trophy now. She did not despair, did not give in to fear. An existence as a soul wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Lenneth was at peace, a rarity in her long lived life.

Lenneth was almost disappointed when her awareness began seeping back in. It started with sounds, Lenneth hearing the soft chime of bells. Her heart began to beat inside her, pumping life and vitality through her. Her breath was the next to follow, a sudden intake of air filling her lungs. It made her gasp, Lenneth almost choking as she began the process of breathing.

Her eyes were the last to work, Lenneth seeing the darkness flicker. Light began to flash, Lenneth's eyes opening and closing in a rapid blink. By the time they adjusted to the light, Lenneth was chasing off her disorientation. It was not born from the grogginess of slumber, for sleep hadn't been what Lenneth had been doing. She had been pure energy, a soul with no function. But now her body was returned to her, Lenneth laying there, her fingers flexing. Toes wiggling, Lenneth encouraging the odd tingling sensations to course through her body. Checking to make sure everything worked in the proper manner.

She stared upwards as she did this, Lenneth noticing the gauzy fabric that made up a canopy over the bed. Her mind was still sluggish, but once she realized what it was Lenneth was staring at, other facts presented themselves. She was on a bed, large and luxurious, it's mattress seeming to stretch on to infinity in every direction. The canopy's curtains trailed downwards, surrounding the bed with only the merest slit for an opening.

She could see through the curtains, Lenneth looking at the room. It was ornate in design, looking like something that belonged in Valhalla with it's gold glided walls and smooth white marble. There was a window cut into the wall, but there were no bars lined against it's glass. Giving the room the illusion that it was something more than a prison. Lenneth knew better. No matter how finely appointed, the room was nothing more than a cage. And she the capture that lived within it's confines. Lenneth suppressed a sigh.

"I have lost." She murmured to herself. Lenneth didn't dare hope for a better outcome. Doesn't dare dream that there could possibly be another explanation for the situation she now found herself in. Too often had she woken up after battle, in a stranger's bed. Lenneth knows all the signs, knows what this means. Just as she knows what she must do, Lenneth resigning herself to a life of servitude.

But melancholy sadness fills her, Lenneth giving a brief thought to the freedom she had left behind. It had been nice while it had lasted, Lenneth wanting to hold the memories she had made close to her heart. To savor them one last time before resentment twisted her feelings. She'll forever yearn for the freedom she had once had, just as Lenneth will damn fate for allowing her that quick taste of it. It just didn't seem fair, to taunt her with that which had been taken from Lenneth once more.

Her head is still bowed, Lenneth offering up one last prayer to the world she had left behind. To the people and the future stolen from her. She doesn't cry though. She's tougher than that. Or at least she tries to be, Lenneth's hands curling into fists. It is a helpless rage she feels, one she holds back on. She could level apart this room, but in the end such a tantrum would serve no purpose. What good was it to destroy, when it would only earn the disapproval of her latest master? Punishments follow their disapproval, Lenneth feeling an inward shudder in response to memories she refuses to dwell upon.

She's vulnerable enough without doing anything to purposefully displease the one who now owns her. Her armor has been taken from her, leaving Lenneth clad in the thin dress of white she had worn beneath it. There are no sleeves to the dress, just thick straps going over her shoulders to hold the bodice up. The cut of her top is modest, with only the barest hint of cleavage to be found. But the dress is tight, molding to her breasts and to her waist. She abruptly feels indecent, crossing her arms over her chest as though to shield Lenneth from unseen eyes.

She almost laughs then, a bitter, nervous sound. Lenneth knows it is useless to try to hide. She will be seen, in this dress and out of it. Her every spot revealed, examined. To be looked at is not so bad. Not when one considers the alternatives. She forces her arms down, her hands fisting the blanket on top of the mattress. Trying not to remember the lecherous stares of those who had come to her in the past.

It is a difficult undertaking. She may not remember all their names, but their eyes still haunt her. As does the memory of their touches, the hands debasing her. Pinching and probing, doing rough caresses that leave behind bruises. Lenneth has never felt pleasure in being used, and something inside her recoils at the thought of such abuse happening again. But she knows it could be worse. That the hurting and humiliation could be tripled should she try to fight. She's been burned in the past, learning the lesson well. Submit and you won't be hurt anywhere as badly as if you had fought.

Even shaking her head doesn't chase away the memories completely. Lenneth scowls at nothing, and begins crawling towards the edge of the bed. It is a ridiculously soft mattress, meant to comfort at every turn. She seems to sink down in it, even as she moves, Lenneth eventually reaching the edge. Her steady hands reach for the curtain's slit, widening it so that she can pass through. She'll explore her prison, wait out her master who seems to be taking his sweet time in appearing before her. Lenneth almost wishes he'd get it over with. The wait is getting to her, Lenneth agitated. Wanting to end the initial discomfort of the first taking by having it done and over with.

But it never gets easier. The awkwardness might go away, but the disgust and self loathing remain. Worsening each time Lenneth is used for sex. Sometimes she hates herself, just as she curses Odin for crafting her to be a being that is so desired. Lenneth actually glares when she sees her reflection in the floor length mirror. How she wants to ruin the perfection of her form. But a Goddess, even one as low leveled as Lenneth, cannot do any lasting damage to themselves.

She is still standing in front of the mirror when Lenneth senses his approach. There was little doubt who it could be, Lenneth recognizing the feel of his power. It was Lezard, the man here to gloat and to take from her all he wanted. Lenneth was already turning when the door opened, her eyes meeting Lezard's excited gaze. That excitement didn't lessen when he smiled, his lips conveying a keen sense of triumph. He was happy to have won, Lenneth the prize he had coveted for so long. Somehow she managed not to glare at him, Lenneth forcing her expression to be indifferent. To play as though she was unaffected by the sight of him, Lenneth an emotionless being in the moment.

It as easy to put the shields up, to seal away her emotions. The months of joy she had had, reveling in her freedom had done nothing to make old defenses forgotten. A wall was being built up inside her, Lenneth preparing to guard her heart from disappointment. Her blue eyes dulled in the process, no longer sparkling with life. She neither frowned nor smiled, Lenneth preparing herself to play unfeeling doll to him.

"Lenneth Valkyrie..." Lezard breathed out her name in a possessive purr, the man gliding towards her. Effortless grace was in his movements, Lezard's eyes devouring the sight of her. He looked hungry in the moment, a half starved man who had finally been given a worthy feast. Lenneth felt as though he was seeing through her clothes, staring at the body beneath the fabric. It almost felt obscene, to be stared at so when one was still clothed. She moved to take action, even as Lezard was speaking. "My beloved Goddess..."

"Shall I undress now?" Her words were toneless, no inflection of emotion to them. Lenneth thought to rush through this, to end some of the uncomfortableness by trying to guide some of what happened. Lezard actually paused, eyes turning a brief surprised. He seemed not to know how to respond, staring at her face as Lenneth waited for an answer.

The silence stretched out between them, the question lingering, unanswered. Lenneth began to raise her arms, fingers reaching for the straps of her dress. But before she could jerk them down, Lezard reacted. His hands were suddenly seizing her wrists, stopping her. Lenneth didn't gasp, didn't react save for looking back at him. "You want my dress to remain on then?" She asked, knowing that some times men were impatient enough to take her without either one of them disrobing completely.

Again that uncertain look. Lezard seemed unsettled by her, as though not expecting such compliance. Nor did he answer her question, uncertain eyes gazing searchingly into her own. Whatever he saw there, it made Lezard frown. "Why would you do this?" He demanded. "Why would you ask me such a thing?"

"Have I given offense?" Lenneth asked, but there was no sarcasm in her voice. She maintained that neutral feeling, eyes watching him carefully. "I merely thought to give you what you wanted."

"What I wanted?" He repeated it, confused. Her wrists were still held by his hands, a grip that hadn't turned painful yet.

"My body is what you wanted, is it not?" Lenneth questioned. "The pursuit of it is what has driven you to do the things you have done..."

"I wanted-want you!" Lezard heatedly corrected. To Lenneth there was no distinction between herself and her body. To want one, was to want the other, and men had always placed more value on her body than that which made Lenneth herself.

"Then shall I disrobe now?" Lenneth repeated her initial question, but didn't try to free herself from his grip.

Lezard's look turned frustrated. "Don't you have any questions?" He wanted to know. "Don't you want to know what I want from you? What I have planned for us both? Do you not even want to know what became of the group you traveled with?"

"If my knowing would please you..."

His eyes narrowed, the amethyst glinting with a sharp light. "I killed them." Lezard's words were spoken with a finality, leaving Lenneth with no doubt towards the truth spoken. "I let those other Valkyries' souls rot away, and I used these own hands to murder the rest of your allies."

Her walls were too built up, Lenneth managing not to react to the news. She couldn't, wouldn't feel sorrow for the loss of those lives. They weren't the first to have died because of her. She was certain they wouldn't be the last.

"You did what you had to, to win." Lenneth spoke out loud. Lezard abruptly let go of her wrists, seeming agitated and angry. His hand went to his hair, smoothing back the unruly bangs with a vicious motion.

"Yes, I did." Lezard agreed. "But I didn't expect you to take to the news so well!"

"Tell me how I am supposed to react."

"Get angry!" Lezard exclaimed. "Get indignant on their behalf. Hate me if you must, but show me something other than this indifference! This unfeeling urge to do what you think will please me!"

"Would my anger make you happy?" Her level tone had him throw up his hands in exasperation, Lezard looking like he wanted to shake some sense into Lenneth. She wasn't trying to annoy him. Truly she was just attempting to figure out the correct behavior to exhibit, to figure out what she had to do to come away with the least amount of hurt.

"I cannot be what you want, if you don't talk to me." Lenneth added when it was apparent he wasn't going to say anything more. Those words got through to him, Lezard staring, a mix of concern and upset in his eyes. He seemed aghast by what she had just said, Lezard reaching out a hand towards her face. He stopped his fingers from touching her cheek and Lenneth could not bring herself to move into that touch.

"I want that spirited Goddess back." Lezard told her. "I want the woman who had stared at me with so heated a gaze. I want the Lenneth who would speak her mind, not this subservient girl before me!"

"That Lenneth is lost." She turned from him then, her eyes catching his startled reaction inside the mirror. "No..." She quickly corrected. "That Lenneth was a lie."

"A lie?" He echoed. "What do you mean by that?"

She glanced away from his image in the mirror, staring instead at herself. The reflection Lenneth saw, showed a bland, unfeeling face, eyes weary in the moment. "A lie..." Lenneth repeated, hand raising to touch fingertips to the mirror's glass. "She came into existence only for a brief time...she was never meant to be..."

His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, the leather of his gloves warm in comparison to the chill she felt. He pressed into her back, but it wasn't a sexual advance. It felt odd, as though Lezard was trying to comfort her.

"We can find that Lenneth." He told her.

For one-second she let him hold her. And then Lenneth was pulling away. "She's lost. To me and to you." She turned to look at him, but even then she wasn't full of fire. "She can't exist you see...not like this. Not without the freedom you took from her..."

"Are you saying it's my fault?" Lezard demanded.

"I am not blaming you." Lenneth reassured him. And she wasn't. Not really. Not so long as she no longer had the energy or emotions to do so. "You are no different than any that have come before you. Wanting me. Doing everything you can to possess me."

She could see him processing this, Lezard thinking on her words. "And..." He spoke hesitantly, as if he didn't want to know the answer. "Has there been many others?"

"More than I can remember." Lenneth answered. Lezard was aghast, and would only turn more so as she continued. "The faces all tend to blur together. Names lost, the people unmemorable. It's their actions I recall, their hidden depravities and abuse..." She stopped, watching the anger burn in his eyes. He was bothered by what she had said, and yet Lezard apparently had a morbid need to understand what had been done to her.

"What have they done to you?"

"What haven't they done?" Lenneth countered, then took a step forward. "This body is used..." Her hands began caressing over her breasts, Lezard's eyes following that seductive movement. "I was created to be a slave...to play victim to my master's many desires. Odin himself made sure I was of pleasing form. He went well above his expectations, crafting a woman who would be coveted by so many...I've been many things, to many different beings. What will I be to you besides the obvious?"

He looked up at her as he answered, maintaining a seriousness that was surprising. "I would love you."

She had no concept of love beyond the physical use of her body. "You want to have sex with me." She corrected.

"I want to make love to you!" Lezard corrected, and Lenneth shrugged. It was all the same to her, Lenneth not reacting even as Lezard amended his statement. "I want to make love with you..."

"Nothing is stopping you from the attempt..." Lenneth pointed out. And yet he made no moved on her. Lenneth reached towards his face, caressing her fingers over his one cheek. "Does it bother you that I am virgin no more? I assure you, I can make up for that in experience. I know what men like..." Her other hand touched the front of his pants, cupping over his groin. "I know how to tease, how to please...let me show you..."

She was new to him, but the look he gave her was full of heat that was familiar to her. She had seen it in countless men and women's eyes, Lezard reacting to her touch. Her hand on his groin, felt the beginning swell of his sex but there was no triumph at arousing him. It was merely her duty, Lenneth wanting to get it over and done with.

His hand reached to cover the one touching his cheek, Lenneth staring into Lezard's eyes. Watching as another emotion burned inside. It was a jealous gleam, which surprised her.

"I'm going to make you forget those others who hurt you." Lezard told her, his voice a low but heated growl. She raised eyebrows, not realizing her look was almost challenging.

His hands reached for her, Lezard drawing Lenneth closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest, Lenneth tilting her head back to stare up at the taller man. Lezard's eyes still held tints of jealousy to them, but there was warmth there as well. A heat that seemed to smolder as he gazed down at her, Lezard bringing his face towards hers. Lenneth couldn't completely stop her reaction, eyes widening in surprise. Could he really mean to kiss her? And yet she couldn't deny the softness touching her lips, Lezard's mouth trembling over hers. In a feather light kiss that was almost as uncertain as Lenneth felt.

Eyes huge, she held herself still for the kiss, unprepared for the sheer sweetness of lips touching hers. She didn't have much experience with kissing. Her previous masters had reserved that sort of affection for true lovers, not wanting to waste such attention on a slave. They had truly treated her like a whore, using Lenneth for just her body, for the pleasure they could obtain inside it.

Lezard's grip was just this short of hurting, as though he feared Lenneth would bolt from his kiss. But she was frozen in inaction, staring at him as he continued to gently brush his lips over hers. His own eyes were closed, a sigh escaping him. Seconds would go by, and then Lezard's actions would grow bolder. Lenneth supposed it was because she hadn't jerked back, the Goddess just standing there. When Lezard's lips began to increase their demand on her, she tentatively attempted to kiss him back. But it was clumsy, almost shy. Of all the things she had been taught to do with her mouth, kissing another on the lips was dreadfully out of her realm of experience.

But not Lezard's! There was no doubt in Lenneth's mind that he had done this before. It didn't matter with who, the man turning his skills onto her with determined intent. His mouth worked to coax hers open, lips ravishing her to the point her thoughts turned muddled. Her hand was still cupping his groin, and she felt how he swelled in response to her own tentative kisses.

She didn't melt into his arms. Lenneth wasn't so inexperienced as to be undone by a kiss. But she felt him hesitate in reaction to her participation. To the slow, almost shy kisses she gave back to him. It could be considered a surrender of a different kind, and it was clear it disconcerted him. Whatever Lezard had been expected, he hadn't been ready for her to make things so easy for him.

Nor did he hesitate for long! Any reprieve she might have had, evaporated within seconds. Lezard's mouth became a hot demand, moving in hungry ways as he added tongue to the kiss. She felt his tongue glide across hers, it jolted a reaction in her. Lenneth recovered quick enough, using her own tongue to glide against Lezard's in a mimicking movement.

Her hand squeeze over his groin, Lezard responding with a growl against her lips. It was practically violent the way he had at her mouth, Lenneth staggered in place. As she stumbled, Lezard drew Lenneth as close as possible, her hand trapped between their bodies. She didn't attempt to get free, didn't try to stop squeezing his covered length. She felt the nip of his teeth on her bottom lip, the sting instantly soothed over by the lick of his tongue.

His eyes opened, and the amethyst was clouded with desire. His arms were locked tight around her, Lenneth waiting for him to take this encounter to the next natural progression. His length seemed to throb against the palm of her hand, Lezard's breath rasping out in a hard hiss. That he wanted her was no denying. She held the proof of that desire in her hand. She waited expectantly, wondering what command he would make of her. Would he order her down on he knees, force Lenneth to take him inside her mouth? Or would he insist on getting between her legs for this first time?

Lezard bowed his head, forehead touching hers. He continued to breath heavily, his eyes half lidded as he stared into Lenneth's eyes. She gazed back, her own expression nowhere as affected as Lezard's was.

"Do you want me on the bed?" Lenneth's tone was a breathy whisper. "Or would you prefer me on the floor?"

It was startling, the change that came over him. The look in his eyes hardened, much of the satisfied high leaving. His mouth turned down in an unhappy frown, Lezard stiffly letting go of her. He'd actually pry her hand off him, Lezard stepping away from her. It was confusing, Lenneth not completely understanding why he would pull away. Especially when it was clear he was aroused.

"Neither." Lezard said in a clipped tone. He adjusted his clothing, though there was no use helping the erection that strained his pants to a tighter fit.

"Then...where?" Lenneth let her confusion show. He shook his head, which made her frown. "Have I displeased you in some way?" She was sure she hadn't, judging by his body's reaction to her.

"It's nothing you are at fault with." Lezard retorted. But his tone was hardly reassuring, smile stiff and unfriendly. "You are simply a product of other's mistreatment." Lenneth couldn't even deny it, knowing the things done to her had been beyond cruel. She must have worn some kind of expression, for Lezard stepped towards her. He ran the briefest of caress over her cheek, his own expression one born of frustration. "I will prove to you I am different from those others."

"You cannot." Lenneth said with certainty. It unsettled her that Lezard spoke with just as strong a certainty, the man giving her an unhappy smile.

"I see I have my work cut out for me. But worry not, Lenneth. I will prove to you how wrong that way of thinking is." He then bowed to her, movements stiff and slow. It was clear it was costing him to walk away from her in his moment of need. But he did walk away, Lezard retreating to the door. He would cast one last look at her, and then step through its frame, leaving Lenneth to stand and stare in shocked confusion at his exit.

Well...this chapter ended up going nowhere like I first imagined. But then my friend Huntress looked over part of it, made a suggestion. Said it would do much to convince Lenneth of Lezard's sincerity if he held back from insisting on sex. As much as I wanted to write a sex scene, I think she made a good judgment call for the fic! *waves pom poms*

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	3. Chapter 3

Kissing Lenneth had been a mistake. In more ways than one. And yet Lezard didn't entirely regret it, the man remembering the way Lenneth's soft lips had felt against his own. They had trembled with uncertainty at that first touch, Lenneth hesitating in response to his own mouth's movement upon hers. She hadn't known what to do, as though the Goddess had had little experience when it came to kissing of any kind. She hadn't gasped at that first touch, but her eyes had widened at his approach, Lenneth unable to remain completely unaffected by what he had attempted to do.

She had tried at first to remain unmoving, frozen in place so that even her hand had stopped it's squeezing of his groin. How long had he endured such an unfeeling reaction, neither warmth nor revulsion flavoring her response? Seconds surely, though it had felt like a small eternity, Lezard's own lips demanding one moment, and gently coaxing the next. Slowly, she would respond, Lenneth's lips doing more than just tremble.

It had been sheer heaven when Lenneth had begun to kiss him back, her clumsy attempts made all the more charming by the way the Goddess had tried to mimic

Lezard's own movements. His own grip on her had loosened, Lezard trusting the instincts that had told him there would be no attempt to bolt from Lenneth then. Lezard had never imagined such an easy surrender from her, but he hadn't been about to complain!

He had been happy, and growing more so the more ardent the kiss became. What Lenneth didn't know about kissing, had quickly been forgotten by the sweet pressure of their lips, and the firm, unrelenting squeezes she performed over his groin. He might have been embarrassed by how quickly he responded to her, but Lezard dared a lesser man not to react to the feel of a Goddess' hand on his dick!

The details became a little hazy then. Lezard could remember making a sound, a guttural growl from deep inside him. He had actually pressed them together as close as possible while still clothed, and still that hadn't been enough, Lezard trying to eat Lenneth down by kiss alone. How had he found the strength to pull back long enough for them to both breathe something other than each other? He simply didn't know, Lezard recalling how he had touched their foreheads together, so that he could gaze soulfully into Lenneth's eyes.

What could have been the start of a profound moment, had been ruined by Lenneth. By the words she had spoken. She had been breathless from the kiss, but her words had held a cold, unfeeling air to them. As though she was asking out of a mere professional curiosity, Lenneth otherwise unaffected by the kiss they had shared. What should have been provocative, had instead quickened to cool off his ardor. The sheer bliss that had coursed through him? Gone within a second, Lezard losing that insane high he had been riding.

His sense of elation gone, Lezard had realized he hadn't made Lenneth swoon with his kisses. She wasn't accepting him out of any sort of sudden affection, nor had she been caught up in the moment. He hadn't been able to affect her that way, hadn't been able to move a heart that was hidden with his words or his actions. For all his passion, his love for her, Lenneth remained at a distance from him. Transformed into someone he could not reach, not yet at any rate. Maybe not ever, though Lezard refused to consider that as a possibility.

It was ironic. He had strove so hard to become a being worthy of her. To become a being that was her equal and more. All in order to gain Lenneth's interest, to gain her notice. He wanted to love her, to be loved by her in return. He had foolishly staked not only his existence, but the existence of all of Creation towards that attempt. Towards the hope of love returned. He had chased after his dream, of bringing his fantasy into reality. Only to be hit with the unexpected.

Lenneth as she was now, bore very resemblance to the woman he had fallen for. Her eyes were dulled from their normal brilliance, though it wasn't true despair that showed in them. There wasn't much of any emotion in them, Lenneth seeming to have locked away all feeling. Not even hate was maintained, Lenneth practical as she looked at him. She had resigned herself to her fate, to the fate Lenneth imagined Lezard had picked out for her. Not even his claims for otherwise moved her, Lenneth neither happy, nor angry that Lezard had gone to such lengths for her.

Those moments, those unfeeling responses, they unsettled him. They turned everything he had believed would happen upside down, leaving Lezard with little idea of how to right them. Of how to fix this situation, fix her. He wanted to heal her, to help Lenneth get over the hurt of the mistreatments she had alluded to. Those mistreatments he had been unaware of, Lezard knowing far too little of the actual woman he had pursued over time and creation. He STILL didn't know much about her, about the real Lenneth, the woman behind the actions of a kind and giving Goddess. He wanted to learn, wanted the chance to get to know her. Even with her past proving far uglier than he had dared dream.

But then Lezard hadn't given much thought to imagining Lenneth's life before his intrusion into it. Into the things she had endured, the hardships she had suffered. The people she had known, the men who might have come before him. His jaw actually clenched at that, Lezard remembering how Lenneth had alluded to a history rife with exploits of the sexual kind. Such was his nature, that Lezard felt insanely jealous of any and all who might have so much as looked at Lenneth. It was almost more than he could bear, to think she had been intimate with another, with several others.

He didn't let the jealousy blind him to the sad reality of those associations. To the fact such trysts had done something to Lenneth, twisted her inside, to the point she had gladly deadened her emotions. The image of the unfeeling Goddess, the cold, practical woman who was ready to do whatever it took to please him, was burned into his mind. That was not the Lenneth he had come for, not the Lenneth who had moved his heart to actually feel. That Lenneth was something else, someone who was damaged. A woman who presented a challenge of a different kind.

It was a challenge he had not anticipated. That encounter with Lenneth had proven just how woefully unprepared he truly was, Lezard unnerved by her behavior, by the cold practical way she had approached him. In that moment, for all the illusions that spoke of his power over her, it had been Lenneth who had taken control of their dealings. She had set him off balance, with her words, her looks, even the delicate placement of her hand over his groin. All three combined, made it difficult to think, and Lezard realized Lenneth could have easily led him into bedding her before either one of them was ready.

That would have been the true disaster then. For all his love, all his obsession, and the desires that heated his blood, Lezard knew enough to realize that taking Lenneth now, would have accomplished nothing. Nothing save to prove to her that Lezard was the same as all the men and women that had come before him. And that was the last thing he wanted!

And so he had walked away. The cost of leaving Lenneth's side was minimal in comparison to the price he would have paid to have bed her then and there. To have her body was meaningless if he could not have her heart as well, her heart, and that fiery spirit he had born witness to in the recent past. He needed, wanted THAT Lenneth. Not the cold, unfeeling doll she played at being now.

He knew, just KNEW, the other Lenneth still existed. She was simply buried somewhere deep inside Lenneth, hidden away under that doll like guise. It would take some time, Lezard having to reach in deep to drag out his spirited Goddess once more. But he WOULD get her back. Even if it took all of eternity to coax her out, Lezard would preserver. He was after all a relentless being, capable of many grand feats. Becoming a God was just one of the many miracles he was capable of performing. Restoring the spirit to a Goddess broken by a millennia of abuse could not be any harder than displacing Odin from his throne.

Of course, ridding Creation of Odin had been no small feat. Nor an easy or quick task to accomplish. That Lezard considered the task of restoring Lenneth's spirit equal to the difficulty of taking Odin's power for his own, proved how strenuous an endeavor he lay out before him. A different man might have given up before he even started, thinking it too much work for any one woman. Lezard would have considered those other men fools, weak and hardly worthy of their heart's devotion if they could give up at the idea of making an effort.

Lezard knew first hand that effort. He had after all, crossed time, thrown off the shackles of his own mortality. Climbed to the heavens, and stolen a God's power. All to chase after his dream, to bring that fantasy to life. He would be a sorry excuse for a man, to let a set back to his love deter his interest now. He wasn't, and a set back was nothing now that he and Lenneth had all of eternity to be together. He merely had to exercise patience, that same patience that had allowed him to wait out an opportune moment to strike against Odin. That patience would lend itself well to his pursuit of Lenneth, perhaps being the only thing to comfort him on the cold, lonely nights of eternity.

The first of those lonely nights loomed before him, Lezard's body still a tingle with the arousal Lenneth had caused within him. Even the knowledge that Lenneth had touched and kissed him, not out of desire, but out of a twisted sense of duty, could entirely calm his body down. Not when her hand had felt so wonderful, her touch there as masterful as her kisses had been clumsy. It made him groan, the sound a mixture of lust and disappointment, his cock seeming to stiffen completely at just the memory of what Lenneth had attempted to do to him.

He couldn't afford to think too much about it. Lezard would go mad otherwise. Mad with desire, mad with longing for Lenneth. As it was, he ached, his body hungry and making demands. Lenneth had escalated things to this point, for Lezard had never intended to allow things to go as far as they had on this, their first night together. For all his fantasies, even he had known it would have been too much to ask of her. And then Lenneth had set his world upside down by gripping him where she had.

Another moan escaped him, Lezard staggering into the bedroom that was down the hall from the room he had left Lenneth in. He was making a concentrated effort not to think, and yet could not keep the memories from coming. From filling his mind, and overriding his senses. Lezard would barely get his clothes off, the newly made God practically diving for the tub of tepid water. Cold, but not enough to put out the fire raging in him, Lezard allowing himself to sink down to his chin in the water.

Trembling, with sweat beading upon his brow, Lezard fought to think of something, anything other than the touch of Lenneth's hand, the sweet softness of her lips. He even tried to call upon the jealousy he had felt, the anger that had stirred within him at the thought of those who had abused Lenneth in the past. Even as he rasped out murderous promises, Lezard intent on hunting down and killing those who had hurt his beloved Goddess, his hands were moving. Gripping himself firmly at the base of his cock. He shook harder with the effort to keep from moving, and yet inch by inch, those hands of his stroked forward.

The feel of his hands gliding over his rigid skin, it made him lose control. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub, Lezard moving not only his hands, but his body as well. Thrusting into the squeezing fists he made, his eyes fluttering close. His breath came out ragged gasps, sound he attempted to silence by biting down on his bottom lip. He tasted blood when he tried to moan out Lenneth's name, Lezard refusing to alert her to the lewd act he was performing. An act that was made all the more obscene, for he was using Lenneth, the memories of her to help hurry him to his release.

He had been aroused for too long, his release almost hurting when it came. He spurted seed into the remaining water, and felt instantly ill. Disgusted with himself for what he had just done, with how he had lost control. He couldn't even feel relief, knowing his desire had been sated temporarily at best. He still wanted Lenneth, Lezard would ALWAYS want her. But for now, he would use this moment, these feelings of loathing and disgust, to serve as reminder that Lenneth was dangerous in a way he had not predicted.

Blah...this chapter was such a struggle...I worked on and off for like a week and a half on it. Still not thrilled with it. Especially the length. I'm sorta thinking of making this a drabble series, so I don't have to worry about length. We shall see. Abrupt ending to the chapter, but really it had to end sooner or later...I like the start of this which I wrote like two or three weeks ago...it's trying to continue it, that is what got it all messed up. X_X

To be continued...

Michelle

BlackMuse, an H story? Hardly. I'm curious to think what you'd think of a real H story then if you thought those first two chapters were too H! XD But yes, the end of chapter three was a bit H, but really I could have done a lot more detail than I did. And this story is rated M for a reason. XD As for Lenneth, it'll be a while before she's...different. It's her own defense mechanism after all she's been through. It's an AU story, where she was abused by Odin and other beings. She's assuming Lezard will be just like Odin and the others, so is trying to do what will cause her the least amount of hurt. I'm debating doing some kind of flashbacks to show more of her past...Lezard as usual, has his work cut out for him! XD

Blakraven66, thanks, I think so too! It made the story change a little, but overall I think it was a good suggestion my friend made to me! \o/


	4. Chapter 4

She hadn't known what to think, what to feel, what to do, when Lezard had abruptly pulled away from her. When it had become apparent he had intended to do no more this night than kiss her. It was obviously a decision he hadn't enjoyed, his movements stiff, angry. But he had played at being the gentleman, actually bowing a goodbye to Lenneth. She hadn't been able to maintain her mask, to play at being the unfeeling, indifferent creature she claimed to now be. And all because Lezard's actions greatly confused her, Lenneth having felt first hand how much he desired her.

She wasn't frightened by that desire. Lezard was after all, just one of many who had wanted her. And like those others, he had been driven to do unspeakable acts, to manipulate and kill in order to possess her. Lenneth was used to being a catalyst, wars fought over her, kings displaced because of her, and now even time rewritten in the pursuit of her. In all her long eternity, never had anyone gone to such lengths, expended such efforts to simply turn away. 

It could almost make a woman feel inadequate if not for the fact she had held against her hand the proof of Lezard's desires. She had felt how he swelled, how he had lengthened and throbbed against the palm of her hand. Lenneth had experienced first hand the desperate hunger within him via his kiss. A kiss that even hours later she swore still lingered warmth on her lips.

It took real strength not to reach up now and finger her lips. Not to trace over the spot his tongue had licked over. Lenneth couldn't stop the memories though, recalling the almost brutal way he had kissed her. How his mouth had felt, how soft, how sensual his lips had been. She told herself it was only because it had been unexpected, that her masters in the past had never expressed an interest in such things. In time it would become second nature to her, just another act to endure. Lenneth was determined to never again be taken aback by Lezard, by his kiss or by anything else he would attempt to do to her. She couldn't afford to feel, or to get close to him on a level that had nothing to do with a master slave relationship.

Most of all, she couldn't allow the confusion she was feeling, to let herself weaken to him. Lenneth couldn't afford to bond herself to him, to develop a liking for Lezard. It was a quick route to trouble, a way to ensure she would hurt when Lezard was replaced and a new master took up Lenneth's leash.

Lenneth didn't think in terms of escaping Lezard. In escaping any of her masters. Instead she existed in a limbo, waiting for her current master to fall, and hoping his replacement wouldn't treat her any worse than any of the others had. But there was no guarantee. And immortals were ever so creative when it came to cruelties and depravities.

She didn't want to think about the past. Didn't want to remember the things that had been done to her. The humiliations and abuse, the ways she had been made to hurt. Her body was divine, Lenneth a being capable of healing from a great deal of physical hurt. And the sadists' had relished in a body they could hurt but not break, Lenneth healing with not so much as a scar to mar her physical perfection. Sometimes, pain and pleasure went together, the abusers getting off on making Lenneth scream.

For many years, Lenneth had expended a lot of her energy on hating those who hurt her. In despising them, wishing them dead. It hadn't made any difference in what was being done to her, and eventually Lenneth rebelled in the only true way she could. She stopped feeling, shut off her emotions and reactions, simply existing to please others. It didn't always spare her from cruelties, but a part of her felt a twisted satisfaction to refuse them her tears.

It's been a long time since she has truly cried. And not even the thought of what Lenneth has lost is enough to wet her eyes now. The only true sign of her agitation is in the way she paces, Lenneth prowling the room Lezard has left to her. A part of her is waiting for Lezard, waiting for him to return and finish what has been started in this room.

She is all the more confused when the minutes become an hour, and then the hour passes into another. She paces faster, Lenneth wondering if this is some game Lezard is playing. If she is supposed to be sitting here, anticipating the moment of his return. Lenneth does, but it is not with excitement that she waits. Not when she wants it over with, with the matter settled between them, an understanding formed of just what her role will be.

Lenneth doesn't for one second believe Lezard's claims of love. That he feels it, and that love exists. She's never known love's touch, never experienced the selflessness of a true lover. She's only known the dark side, the twisted desires that cause greed and selfishness and a need to hurt.

Her agitation mounts, Lenneth not understanding how simply being ignored by Lezard can have such an effect on her. She's feeling more in one night with him, than she has in an eternity with the others, but what she feels, Lenneth doesn't like. All her anxieties, insecurities, and worries coming to bear down. She'll pace for hours yet, before collapsing in a fit of exhaustion on the bed. And even then she will continue to wait, anticipating the moment Lezard wakes her from her exhausted slumber. That he doesn't is surprising, Lenneth waking up confused, disoriented. There's not even a sign that he has been back to the room, and Lenneth marvels at his will power.

She's just as amazed that she's been able to sleep, that hours have gone by without Lezard's return. Lenneth wonders how long she is supposed to wait, and then wonders if Lezard is doing this to purposefully drive her to him. Is this a game to make her think nothing but of him? To make her feel something other than the emptiness she tries to cling to? Worse yet, it might just be working, Lenneth unable to stop thinking about her new master. About his wants, his desires, about the game he is playing with her. It is more torment to exist in this limbo, to wait endlessly for the fate she anticipates. The coming together that is as unavoidable as it is unstoppable.

A pressure is building inside Lenneth. One that might only be alleviated once Lezard takes his spoils. Only then can Lenneth truly feel on even ground, the Goddess unable to understand this behavior that contradicts everything Lezard has done. The wait, the refusal to bed her immediately? All foreign concepts to a woman that has been so pursued, her time, her body not her own. She can't ever remember a time when her owner has given her leave to just exist. If Lenneth was not busy serving their sexual needs, she was off running errands on their command.

Unused to free time, Lenneth had kept herself busy even once she had thrown off the shackles of her former bonds. To rule over Creation, to be the loving, nurturing Goddess had taken nearly all of her time. She hadn't minded, Lenneth loving the world and it's people. Their problems, their entreaties, the miracles they needed, all work that had kept her from being idle. The work had made her feel fulfilled, in ways serving her former masters never had. Lenneth knows she wasn't created to do anything more than serve as a possession, but that brief freedom and fulfillment she had tasted, haunts her. Worse than a dream, real but oh so fleeting. She won't break down though. Lenneth tells herself she is stronger than that. She mustn't let any doubts surface, mustn't let the memories haunt her. Most of all she must remember to never again feel, existing only as the object Odin created her to be.

Lenneth tells herself it will get easier, that the memories will fade though they will never be forgotten. Telling herself her lapse in indifference can be overlooked, that she had responded to confusion and surprise only because she was fresh off of that fleeting freedom. Her determination is stronger than any memories, her emotions will be switched off, hidden behind an impenetrable barrier. And not even Lezard's games will be able to draw them out, Lenneth refusing to be a fool for him, toyed in that way.

It is easy to make that decision. Easy to tell herself that she won't feel anything when with Lezard. Lenneth won't allow herself to even feel anger, or to hate him for what he's stolen from her. And all because she reasons if not Lezard, then someone else would have come along. Someone else who desired her, who wanted to bed her, to use her. Someone else who coveted not only her beauty, but her power and abilities. She can no more fault Lezard than she could the sky for being blue, the man just one face in an endless string of tormentors and wannabe's.

Letting her feelings hollow out, the emptiness settling around her like a cloak, Lenneth nods to herself. There's no use waiting any longer, no need to drag things out any further. She almost needs Lezard to fuck her, for the fledgling God to make clear the nature of her servitude. Relief would come afterwards IF she was still capable of feeling. Certainly any anxiety that remained would be gone, Lenneth no longer having to wonder how cruel and sadistic Lezard could be. There would be an understanding forged, existing only as long as it took for someone to overpower and remove Lezard from his throne.

If Lenneth allowed herself to think, to feel, she would say a serenity had come over her. Rising from the bed and slipping through it's curtained canopy, the Goddess doesn't bother to look for something to put over her dress. She's certain she won't be wearing it for much longer, and though plain in appearance, it still clings enough to her body to hold a certain charm. Certainly she has enough appeal to not need any further adornments, and Lenneth has never been one for jewels or make up.

Lenneth is not as surprised as she could be to discover the door to her room isn't locked. It fits in with Lezard's game, with her assumptions that he is waiting for her to come to him. She won't disappoint, Lenneth padding through the doorway on silent feet. She's not sure where he will be, which of the many doors will lead her to him but she doesn't let that stop her. Lenneth walks through the hall, pausing only long enough to push open door after door. None are locked, Lenneth peering inside them all. She doesn't care for the surroundings, lingering only long enough to ascertain where Lezard is not.

He's not in the other bedroom, or the lavish bathroom that exists beyond it. Lezard is not in the workroom, the library, or the kitchen. Nor can she find him in the myriad of other rooms whose additions seem incomplete, mere after thoughts to this place. If Lenneth was allowing herself to feel, she would be unsettled. She would have been wondering how he could leave without sampling his hard sought prize. She'd certainly be giving in to confusion, to the unease that was almost positive Lezard was playing with her. After all, Lenneth cannot imagine any other reason for his absence. For the effort he puts in to stay away from her.

She has been to almost every room in this place, seen almost every inch of the crystal palace Lezard has crafted to be his home. Lenneth is beginning to think she'll have to seek Lezard elsewhere, and wonders if the palace is warded against her leaving. A window is cut into the crystal, the stone just dark enough to obscure the outside world. Reaching for the latch, Lenneth opens the crystal window and pauses. The new world is spread out before her, Lezard's creation. It is different from the parts Lenneth has already seen, the withering forests, the icy climes, even the perpetual night a top a mountainside. Those realms had all held menace to them, from their look, their feel, to the monsters who inhabited them. What Lenneth sees now, is something to rival Asgard, perhaps made all the more beautiful because it holds a one time mortal's concept of perfection.

Lenneth cannot see all of Lezard's world from the window, but the pieces that she does see? It reminds her of every breathtaking work of art the mortals that she had so loved had created throughout out their long history. Lezard has taken the best bits, the most impressive pieces, crafting a paradise the mortals have long dreamed of.

Lenneth has been to every one of the nine realms of Creation. She has lived among the ice giants, and served the Gods of Jotunheim. Has seen the ethereal loveliness of the elves and fairies in Alfheim. Has even toiled in the underworld, choking on the despair and brimstone of Nifleheim. For all that she has seen, and that included Odin's Asgard, Lenneth has liked best the land of the mortals. The Midgard they made home, and the beautiful paradises they aspired to.

Gazing out the window, looking beyond the emerald brilliance that surrounds the crystal palace, an unfamiliar feeling tightens her chest. Lenneth forgets herself long enough to frown, to allow one hand to clutch at her heart. It is longing pure in it's power, Lenneth wishing for the future she had left behind. The kingdom she had tried to save. She is homesick for that Midgard, not the perfection she sees before her.

The feeling is perilously close to overwhelming her, her careful facade ready to crumble apart. Her vision might just wet with a hint of tears, and with them presses in everything she sought to throw away. Every emotion and desire. Lenneth fights it though. To give in now would be to be destroyed. She might never stop feeling again. And with that feeling, Lezard and the other's abuse will be all the worse, Lenneth vulnerable in ways she hadn't been for thousands of years.

Struggling, her eyes dark with that inner turmoil, Lenneth seeks to center herself. To not only calm herself, but shut off those traitorous feelings that seek to override and ignore her only means of self preservation. She continues to grip at her chest, to stare out past the emerald forest. To try and master the reaction seeing this paradise causes in her.

Just as Lenneth thinks she has it under control, she senses a presence drawing near. Long before footsteps sound from behind her, Lenneth feels the build up of divine energy. The discharge of it, as reality splits apart, and expels a body into the hall. Even before he speaks, Lenneth knows it is Lezard. And with his arrival, she manages to chase away the last of the feelings she is struggling with. The tension eases out of her, but slowly, Lenneth lowering her hand.

"Beautiful, is it not?" She says, starting to turn towards the approaching God. His eyes are all for Lenneth, Lezard not even bothering to look out at the view.

"Yes. A sight like no other." It is not conceit that leads her to believe Lezard is talking about her. Not when his hungry gaze tries to devour every inch of her.

Lenneth doesn't try to pretend she misunderstands. Instead she locks gazes with him, the blue dark with the knowledge of Lezard's desire. It's not a desire she shares, nor can Lenneth truly feign the lust Lezard feels. But the knowing look doesn't quicken Lezard's approach. If anything his steps falter, Lezard halting a few feet from her. He's almost nervous as he adjust the glasses on his face, the newly made God casting about for something to say to her.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Well enough." Lenneth answers. From the shadowy smudges under his eyes, Lenneth can tell Lezard has spent a restless night. It lets her know he wasn't unaffected by the separation he had insisted upon, though Lenneth cannot understand why he would bother to stay away. Not at the cost to himself.

"You have been exploring?"

"I was looking for you." She tells him. The pleasured response is immediate, Lezard happy to think she had sought him out. His eyes, twin amethyst jewels, are all too expressive when it comes to Lezard's feelings in regards to Lenneth.

"Oh?" He doesn't have to play at being curious. "Did you miss me?"

"If that is the answer that would please you." Her response earns her a sigh, the pleased look fading from Lezard's eyes.

"Lenneth..."

In a heart's beat, she is before him, raising fingers to press against his lips. His eyes, dark with some unfathomable emotion spike with that powerful desire. His lips seem to quiver, as though Lezard is fighting the urge to kiss and taste the fingers she holds to him. Lenneth truly doesn't understand why he denies himself even that, the Goddess going so far as to caress a thumb teasingly over Lezard's bottom lip. His breath seems to catch in his throat, Lezard's eyes growing hooded. It's more powerful a response than she had expected, and it almost makes Lenneth hesitate in reaction.

The softness of Lezard's lips beckons her on, Lenneth's thumb a feather light caress. She can't nerve herself to kiss him, not when she hasn't yet mastered her reaction to such an act. Her other hand touches his chest, his jacket a velvet barrier against his flesh. Shifting, she finds the opening of his jacket, Lenneth sliding her hand inside. She feels the silk of his shirt, thin enough that it can't stop her from experiencing the heat of his skin.

"Lenneth, what are you doing?" Lezard has snagged hold of her wrist, stopping her caresses. She blinks slowly before answering, tilting her head to the side.

"I am giving you what you came for."

Lezard's expression hardens, the God stepping back. Lenneth tries to follow, the hand gripping her wrist holding her at bay. "Sex is not what I came for."

"Isn't it?" She doesn't mean to sound so challenging, but Lezard's refusal to act on his all too apparent desire frustrates her.

"I told you what I want."

"Ah yes." Another woman would have been scornful, but Lenneth was toneless. "You want to make love with me." She inhaled so that her breasts strained the fabric of her dress, Lezard's eyes flicking quickly in their direction. "Very well. I love you. Now can we have sex?"

His reaction was immediate, a red hot anger in his eyes as Lezard jerked his gaze away from her breasts. She had displeased him, but Lenneth didn't understand why. She didn't understand his anger, but she knew what to expect from it. Or at least Lenneth thought she did, holding herself still so as not to flinch in reaction to the slap she was expecting. But Lezard didn't attempt to hit her, didn't so much as squeeze down on the wrist he was holding. He just gazed at her with that angry look, lips opening, then closing as he decided against saying something.

Minutes passed in silence, before Lenneth nerved herself to speak. "I don't understand you." That earned her a frown from Lezard, the man almost bitter as he spoke.

"Obviously."

"You won't have sex with me, though you clearly want to."

"I want more than just your body." Lezard told her. "I want a connection with you."

"You have it." Lenneth replied. "Tell me what I must do, what I must say. How I must act to become that which what you crave."

He was shaking his head no, letting go of her wrist and backing up another two steps. He held up his hand when she moved to follow, but Lenneth knew it wasn't because he feared her. If anything, Lezard might fear what he would do, that he might take her up on her offers if she continued to persist. Especially where sex was concerned.

"Lezard..." Her hands lifted, fingers snagging the straps over her shoulders. "I will be whatever you want. Act however you need. The body that you went to such great lengths to possess? It's yours now. There is no need to hold back."

"Lenneth." A hoarse saying of her name, Lezard audibly swallowing.

"Come." She was without shame, jerking down the straps, letting her breast bounce free of her dress' top. "Take your prize!"

Any protests Lezard could have voiced, died down at the sight of Lenneth's breasts. She felt no true triumph as he stepped towards her, nor did sorrow color her thoughts. There was only emptiness, Lenneth accepting what was about to happen. She told herself it was for the best, that she was doing both herself and Lezard a favor in freeing the God from his delusions about love.

Not sure if this was a good line to end the chapter on. But it's past five a.m. here and I am so tired. I want to tackle five, what happens next in Lezard's POV anyway. Which I hope to work on once I've had some sleep that's more than just a paltry four hours. X_X

I wasn't even expecting to work on this fic to be honest. I had been wanting to work on a Valkyrie Profile fic for like a month now, but then new chapters for Voltron kept happening. But I kept thinking one more chapter for Voltron, and then VP would happen. And that the fic that would get attention would be war bride or Alicia Lezard Lenneth Untitled fic. Imagine my surprise when Spoils of the Heart bit me on the butt, and demanded some chapters. Overall I'm pleased...I'm glad I was able to write a new chapter for this one!

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Me-meowth, oh my goodness! You really perked me up with your comments. I have been wishing every since you first reviewed, that I could write and thank you sooner and more personally. You really made me feel better after how crummy I felt about chapter 3. (Right now the only upset I can remember is that I was upset I couldn't make the chapter a longer size...but I remember how bad I felt and kinda hopeless about the story.) I sorta feel like I should dedicate this chapter to you, since you really did make me happy and feel more positive for the story. I almost tried to force a chapter out, just so I could be able to reply to you. But I learned from first hand experience that I am NEVER happy or satisfied when I try to force a chapter before I am ready to write it. I wonder if maybe that is part of my dissatisfaction I felt with three. Four was finally ready to be written, and I feel pretty good about the end result. :)

Now...I'll try not to gush so much. But oh! Epic? *blushes then smiles big all over again* Why thank you! And yeah, I rather like these unhealthy type of relationships too. Or damaged characters...and Lenneth in this sure fits the bill for damage! I've been wondering how to handle her past...like if I'll do a flashback...I thought Lezard MIGHT peep on her past via the philosopher's stone...if he can handle seeing how badly she was treated. Or maybe she'll talk about it. We'll see how the story flows. And yes...there will be some sexy encounters. My main problem is figuring out how to advance the story...eventually, another character is gonna come into it. It's hard to talk without spoiling...but heck, the summary blurb kinda gives it away My long term plan is, Lenneth eventually does fall for him...and then this other character comes along to take her from Lezard. DUN DUN DUN! Course...I shouldn't spoil everything. But do you really think Lezard even beaten is gonna give up on Lenneth? XD Now if I could only steadily advance the story to get to that point. =/

As for what approach to getting the relationship more developed. Well originally I was going to go right out the gate with the sexual approach. That he gives her pleasure when the others before never bothered, or cared if she enjoyed sex. But then I talked with my friend Huntress, and showed her chapter one, I don't remember if she saw half of chapter two...but I know we were IMing while I was working on two, and I sorta remember bitching/lamenting at how difficult I was finding to segue into sex...Anyway! We talked about it, and some of my plans long term for this story...and together we both thought it would work better if he didn't sex her up.

However...lately I've been thinking about a possible scenario...not right away...but one where he gives her pleasure, but stops and doesn't go for his own pleasure. Which could absolutely flabbergast Lenneth. XD But we shall see...

And don't feel embarrassed. I didn't think the reviews were retarded or anything. Like I said above, they greatly cheered me and made me wish I had a way to contact you to thank you. :D

Ruvian...er um...thanks. But can't write any faster. XD And Lezard needs his chapters too!

Nyash, thanks! I'm not sure what reaction I wanted to be honest. But the story might have a chance to be romantic and touching if Lezard can actually help Lenneth work through her issues. ^_- Thanks again! I hope to not take so long in between updates...but with real life and other stories demanding to be told...eh...damn...I'm doomed. X_X


	5. Chapter 5

Desire had hit him hard, lust instantly quickening his blood. The heat that scalded through him, only served to arouse Lezard, the newly made God unable to take his eyes off the vision before him. The Goddess, who stood half naked, her beautiful breasts quivering in anticipation of his touch. For all too long a moment, Lezard forgot how to think, how to even breathe. All he could focus on was Lenneth, that beautiful, perfect Goddess who stood beckoning to him.

Even though she spoke no further words, Lezard knew what Lenneth was offering him. What she was prepared to give him. The promise of sex lay heavy between them, charging the air with anticipation. His and hers, Lenneth waiting, wanting this. For one brief moment, Lezard let himself forget why he shouldn't be acting on his desire, or on giving in to the lure of Lenneth.

His hands reached for her, taking hold of her slim waist. Feeling that pale perfection that was her skin under his hands. Even as he held her, starting to draw her against him, Lenneth was stepping closer. Lezard exhaled a deep breath, the tantalizing scent of Lenneth being drawn in on that sigh. She smelled like wildflowers and the polish used to shine her armor. An intriguing mix that was made all the more heady by Lenneth's nearness.

He lost himself to the feel of his senses being invaded by her, Lenneth's presence taking over his awareness. He thought, saw, breathed her in, felt the warmth of her skin on his fingers. And yet it wasn't enough, Lezard wanting to taste her too. It wasn't just her lips he desired. He wanted to taste those dusky pink nipples, feel them ripen on his tongue. He wanted to hear Lenneth moan, feel her fingers in his hair, as his tongue worked to lap up the cream from between her legs. He even wanted to lick up the sweat that would bead on her body at the height of their love making. He wanted it all, was almost impatient to the point his gripping hands turned bruising on her waist.

She didn't make a sound, didn't so much as whimper in pain from the hurt he was causing. Instead her hands touched him, nimble fingers working open the buttons of his clothes. She couldn't get them off fast enough for his liking, nor did he want to let go of her long enough to shrug out of his jacket and shirt. As Gods, a thought alone could have removed all their clothing, but for all Lezard's impatience, there was something infinitely more arousing to have their clothes removed the old fashioned way.

He nearly groaned when Lenneth pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his pants, her fingers doing a slow, lazy caress over the exposed skin there. His body already aware of her, reacted further, blood gathering in his cock. It made the fit of his pants unbearably tight, as well as affected his ability to think. Not that he was trying in the moment, all his thoughts focused on Lenneth and the way they would soon have at each other.

Her hands were everywhere that his skin showed, caressing over the plains of his stomach, to rubbing fingertips over his nipples. Lezard delighted in the feel of being at the center of Lenneth's attention, of having his skin stroked and teased by her. His own hands were not idle, caressing up and down the sides of her body, his motions as unfrenzied as Lezard could manage at the moment. He marveled at how soft and smooth her skin was, tracing fingers down her back. The bunched up remains of her dress impeded his downwards process, Lezard starting to shove at the fabric, wanting it out of the way. A determined wiggle of Lenneth's hips helped set it into motion, the dress rolling downwards to crumple at her bare feet.

He drew back then to look at her, all the wonderment and admiration he felt apparent in his eyes. Lenneth was beautiful, the loveliest female he had ever born witness to. There could be no other in creation, be they Goddess, undead or elf, that could compare with Lenneth's breathtaking appeal. The ultimate in desirable, it made Lezard dizzy at the mere thought of finally becoming one with her. Of loving her and being loved in return by her. His excitement only grew, Lezard's fingers catching hold of the ties of Lenneth's panties. But they did not immediately unravel the knots that held that flimsy fabric in place, Lezard pausing. And all because it had registered, the lack of feeling in Lenneth's eyes, her expression devoid of the desire and enjoyment Lezard was feeling.

His hesitation didn't go unnoticed, Lenneth placing her hands over his. "What's wrong?" She asked, her tone soft but holding no true emotion within it. Her lack of true caring, the way she was indifferent to what was happening immediately stabbed into him, Lezard's back stiffening. The fire within him was cooling down, as though freezing waters had been thrown directly onto it. With the receding of his lust, Lezard was better able to think, his fingers letting go of the panties' ties.

"Lezard?" There wasn't much of anything in Lenneth's expression, nor did her voice hold even the tiniest bit of concern. It was disconcerting, like looking at a lifeless doll. The spirited Goddess he had long admired, the vibrant beauty that had been the motivating force behind his ambitions gone. The Lenneth before him? Beautiful, but without holding the substance of the Lenneth that she had once been. And beauty alone was not enough for Lezard, the man wanting the Lenneth he had first fallen in love with, the Goddess with the limitless potential to care and feel.

The longer he truly looked at Lenneth, ignoring the body she so boldly displayed in favor of that unfeeling face, the easier it became to think. To remember the reason why he had refused to go any further the night before, to recall why even now he could not take her up on the offers of her body. It wasn't entirely easy to ignore the invitations she gave him, especially when his body had been stirred up with arousal. It physically pained him to step away, the lust his body was experiencing causing a pang of protest in him. It would hurt more if he acted on those desires, and lost any chance he had at securing Lenneth's love, and returning her to the spirited Goddess he had pursued over time and Creation.

Something flickered in Lenneth's eyes at Lezard's clear rejection of her offers. He felt better to have seen it, to have seen the doubt and uncertainty that colored her eyes, though briefly. Lenneth WAS able to feel, the Goddess not having been as successful at burying all emotion as she would have liked him to believe. It gave him hope, Lezard thinking he stood a chance of restoring her to the feeling woman she was meant to be.

It would take time of course, and careful management of them both before Lenneth could reach the point of embracing her true self. And just one slip on his part, for Lezard to ruin everything! Reflecting on the past few minutes, Lezard colored in embarrassment, realizing just how close he had come to that ruin, to proving he was the same as all the others Lenneth had implied had come before him.

His unhappy reaction wasn't lost on Lenneth, the Goddess watching him. She stared with that careful blankness, watching, waiting for his next move. Apparently ready and willing to endure anything he decided. Anything but his refusal to act on the desires she aroused in him. He saw how Lenneth's brows drew together, the slightest hint of a frown on her face. That Lezard wasn't having sex with her, it set her off balance. It was an upset she clearly intended to rectify, Lenneth reaching for her panties' ties.

Lezard's reaction was immediate, the breath hissing out of him. What should have been a gratifying sight, only alarmed him now, Lezard moving into action. Grabbing at her wrists, jerking them away from the ties before she could unravel them any further. Lenneth didn't so much as gasp, staring at him without attempting to break free. Tension coiled between them, Lenneth holding no comment about the near violent way he had grabbed her, or how his sudden movement pressed her flesh against his bare chest.

He had been distracted before, not noticing signs that pointed to her lack of arousal. Her body hadn't even begun to prime itself for him, her nipples remaining flat and uninterested. While Lezard had been a raging inferno, hot and ready for her in an instant, He made a noise, the sound stricken at it's heart. Not even that garnered a response from her, Lenneth frozen and waiting for his next move. Frustration bloomed within him, and then Lezard was letting go of her wrists. Throwing his arms around her in a fierce hug, almost crushing her against him. Lenneth stiffened for one second before relaxing in his embrace. She made no other move, no attempt to touch him as he held her to him and for that Lezard was relieved. He wouldn't have been able to bear it, if she continued with that unfeeling seduction, those artless attempts to incite his passion.

He continued to hug her, his own body trembling. Anger and disgust rose in him, mixing together in a maelstrom of rage as Lezard considered all of Lenneth's actions and words. Both in this moment, and during the night before. The way she had acted had been unexpected, Lenneth's behavior nothing like he had been anticipating. Lezard had expected a fight, for Lenneth to scream and rant, rail against the idea of spending eternity at his side. He had expected her insults, her fists, even her sword turned against him. The one thing Lezard hadn't anticipated was for Lenneth to all but throw herself at him. The anger he felt grew worse, though it wasn't directed at the woman in his arms. If anything Lezard was thinking on what she had said, the small bits of information that painted a far too revealing picture of her past. She had been abused, tortured and tormented by Creation only knows how many others. And just like the others, Lenneth expected Lezard to do the same. She had no hope of Lezard being any different, and he realized it was his own fault. In taking her from the world she had built up, in destroying the past in order to gain the chance to be with Lenneth, Lezard had ensured she recognize no other part of him except that which matched up to the behavior of her past abusers.

His arms tightened around her further, Lenneth now making a sound of discomfort. Lezard didn't let her go, burying his face in her hair. Taking calming breaths that were scented with whatever flowers she had used to shampoo her hair with. Even then, at that relatively innocent act, desire flared within him. His jaw clenched in defiant response, Lezard calling upon all his will power to ignore how much he wanted Lenneth. It was more difficult than he would care to admit, a part of him wanting so badly, it was content to ignore the shell of a woman Lenneth currently was. And that was simply unacceptable to the rest of him.

Another sound of discomfort, Lenneth starting to shift in his embrace. Lezard forced himself to relax his arms, to let go of her when his upset would have him cling all the harder to her. Her expression hadn't changed, hadn't been affected by anything that had been done in these last few moments. She was just there, seeming to exist to wait on his needs. Anger spiked in him, but it was not directed at Lenneth but at those who had broken her to this point. The ones who had damaged her to the point she was so docile, even as Lezard recognized the part his hand had played in making Lenneth this way.

And yet he couldn't give her up. Lezard wasn't that selfless. For all the fact that his pursuit and subsequent catching of Lenneth had stripped her of the spirited woman she had once been, Lezard refused to just give up and let her go. He couldn't even justify his selfish behavior to himself, not even with the thought, the promise, that he would help Lenneth overcome her past. Overcome the hurts she had suffered, the things that had made her shut down so completely at the thought of being in his care.

"Lezard..."

He wasn't like the others of her past, but he wasn't entirely different from them either. It was a realization that left him shaken to the core, Lezard wondering how, IF, he could be better than those other men.

"I'm sorry." He said out loud. Lenneth just looked at him, her face holding that careful blankness. Lezard wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. Was it for what he had done, or what he might do in the future? Temptation waited for him even now, Lezard forcing himself to keep looking at Lenneth's face. She was making no move, no attempt to cover herself. Instead she studied him with that distant gaze, head tilting to the side as though Lenneth was trying to guess at what was going through Lezard's mind.

"Why do you stop?" She asked at last. Lezard blew out a breath, and fought to keep from looking where her hands now gestured.

"It's not right." An arch of one silver blue eyebrow, and somehow even without the emotions, Lenneth managed to convey her disbelief of what he had said. But save for that look, she didn't question or challenge him. Didn't so much as point out that much of what he had done to secure her presence besides him, was also not right.

Lezard gave a shake of his head, flexing his fingers. With just a thought, her dress flew up off the ground, his fingers closing around the thin fabric. It still held the warmth of her body, though it was fading fast. Somehow Lezard manage to keep from crushing it to him, instead approaching Lenneth. She held absolutely still as he dressed her, Lezard managing to avoid actually looking at her as his hands worked the dress over Lenneth's body. But he couldn't ignore how she felt, how soft and pliant her body was, how pleasing her curves were.

"If you are not going to use me for sex..." Lenneth said as Lezard once again backed away from her. "Then what DO you want me for?"

"Companionship." Was what he blurted out. Again that arch of one of her eyebrows, Lenneth hardly believing what Lezard had said. And why should she? Most men didn't rewrite the past, traverse the realms, become a God, merely because they wanted someone to talk to. And yet hadn't he done just that, wanting not only Lenneth in bed, but in all parts of his life? To have them be equals, a king for her queen, to rule over the realms of creation?

"Companionship." Lezard repeated, this time sounding more sure, more confidant of the answer he was giving her. She seemed to nod to herself, as though sure the real reason would be brought forth soon enough. It made him wonder what the others had used her for when they weren't forcing her to their beds. He asked as much out loud, and instantly regretted it when the remaining life died in her eyes.

"Are you sure you really WANT to know?"

Realizing he didn't, Lezard started to shake his head no only to realize he was taking the cowards' way out. He should hear this, should be made aware of all the wrongs done against Lenneth. It might be the only way he could help her heal, though he didn't dare place hope on the idea that merely talking about her past abuse would somehow be therapy enough for her to recover from all of it.

He didn't dare delude himself into believing it wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. After all, something had to have hurt Lenneth to the degree she had tried to kill off all her emotions. And yet he wasn't prepared for the things she would say, the things she would start to tell him. And Lenneth would hold nothing back, starting with the very first person to lay hands on her. That of her creator and King, the man she should have thought of as her own father.

With that dead look in her eyes, Lenneth began to detail the first days of her life. Of how her very first memory was of awakening to Odin's hands on her. Her flesh newly created, newly molded into the form that was so pleasing to so many, had all but crawled at the unfamiliar and unwelcome feel of Odin's manhandling.

"I didn't know what was happening." Lenneth told him. "Didn't know what these feelings were coursing through my body. I had yet to learn names for the revulsion and disgust, the panic and fright I was feeling. But I knew enough to know I didn't like it, nor did I want it to continue." She was holding his gaze with her own, Lenneth acting as though she wasn't capable of even being ashamed of what had happened to her.

"With my body barely my own, I began to fight him. Odin broke my jaw with his backhand, the pain enough to stun me into lying still for what he intended." continued Lenneth. "Before I could even voice my first words, he had rendered me incapable of speaking..."

"If he hadn't already been wiped from existence, I'd kill him all over again." Lezard fumed. It earned him no reaction from Lenneth but then Lezard hadn't expected one. But he hadn't been able to keep quiet. It was either say something, or start screaming.

"I wasn't the first Valkyrie to be created." Lenneth explained. "But I was the first to be...used this way. To exist to be so desirable that the Gods themselves would lose their heads." She gave an uncaring shrug then. "Odin knew he had exceeded his expectations when even he himself desired me..."

Though he dreaded the answer, Lezard voiced the question all the same. "And for what reason, what purpose did he need to create a woman that was THAT desirable?"

There was no conceit, no proud smirk or knowing look. Lenneth simply looked at him, face lacking all expression, voice devoid of any true feeling. "In the beginning? I was meant to be no more than a trap, the sweet temptation that lured the God Surt to his grave."

"An assassin?"

"That's too noble a name for what I was." Lenneth told him. "I was both bait and whore, lulling Surt with my body, finding out his weakness to use against him at the right moment. It wasn't quick or easy, I spent years at Surt's side. And during that time, I learned not only how to destroy him, but every sick fantasy and depraved thought he had ever had."

"So you see Lezard..." Lenneth began stalking towards him. "Nothing you can want, nothing you can ask for, can be any worse than Odin, than Surt, then any of the others of my past. Your desires won't surprise me, and I've long since learned not to feel disgust, not to fight against what is happening."

Her hands touched his shoulders, Lenneth going up on top toe to place her lips by his ear. In a breathy tone of voice that spoke of sin and seduction, Lenneth solicited Lezard. "So when you are ready, when you know for sure just what fantasy you want me to be...all you have to do is find me, and I'll do as you desire."

He couldn't help shivering, though somehow Lezard managed not to grab at Lenneth's arms. He forced himself to be still, to let Lenneth step away. She give him a look that was almost searching, before nodding and turning away. Her body itself moved seductively, an enticing sway to her hips as Lezard watched Lenneth walk away. Only when she was gone did he realize he had made fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands and having drawn blood.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Moi Fah, hello! I'm grinning cause getting such a nice review is always good for MY mood. *winks* Heh...I do like the crazed deranged side, but sometimes I like to explore other versions of him as well. This one makes for a fun role reversal, with Lenneth pretty much throwing herself at him, trying to seduce him for all the wrong reasons. And there's him, trying so hard to resist even though he has his moments where he slips up. XD I can just imagine Lezard shaking his fist at me, and muttering about my enjoying too much his torment in this fic! XD

Yes poor Lenneth...and I've barely touched upon her past. I'm imagining six would be a Lezard POV, and he gets up the nerve to use the philospher's stone to find out more...then promptly has nightmares about what he learned. *pets him* I'm still trying to decide how to handle her past in terms of if I want to do an actual flashbacks or not...

And oh dear. What you can't wait to see, i am dreading. Just cause I imagine it might be the most difficult part of the fic. X_X I find I get stumped easier if they're isolated, if they don't have other characters to play off of. *cries in frustration* As for Lucian, I was thinking the romance never happened there. I'm sure he existed, but it was one sided infatuation. And he didn't love Lenneth for Lenneth, but for who she reminded him of. So he wanted her to be Platina for him. This is AU but some of the sutff that happens in the games happened here...just a bit twisted. XD

I started suffering doubts when I tried to start this chapter. I almost went back to it being a Lenneth POV...but ultimately I'm glad I fought against the doubts, and kept going with a Lezard POV. And I only had to trash and rewrite a few paragraphs near the start of this chapter before it started flowing better for me. I uh...also been getting distracted by my other VP fics. All of a sudden I keep finding myself thinking about The Stolen. But I worry even once I reread it, I'll get stuck at the same spot. But I told myself I wouldn't even attempt to reread it until I got chapter five for Spoils written. But lately I have all my recent VP stuff clamoring for space in my head. It's kinda hard to pick which to work on...but I want to get some of them updated with new chapters. I also have a new OSVP chapter I've been hesitating to post due to how much of a struggle it was...that damn depressed Lenneth POV...though it has moments in it I really liked. I have to still look over it before I post, but expect it soonish!

Thank you for the luck and well wishes. :D Same to you. *hugs*


	6. Chapter 6

The night had taken on a feverish heat, the air itself holding enough weight to it to feel oppressive. What little breeze there was, did nothing to alleviate the heat, instead stirring up warm drafts of air that only made Lezard sweat more. He had already had to change shirts twice before conceding it was best not to wear any at all, but even if Lezard had forgone clothes completely, it wouldn't have made a difference. Not on a night like this, the muggy heat and humidity hinting at the storm that was brewing.

The occasional low rumble of thunder only seemed to confirm it, the sound as unwelcome as the heat. It should have been a physical impossibility, the world Lezard had created too perfect a paradise to suffer bad weather. But it was happening all the same, leaving Lezard with the feeling it had to do with the moods he was suffering through.

It was an odd mix, disgust and desire mixing together. Love and loathing focused together on the one woman who had been able to move Lezard's heart into feeling. He didn't hate Lenneth for the feelings that moved through him, though he cursed the people of her past. The men and women who had hurt and used Lenneth, making the Goddess think it impractical to give oneself over to feeling. To living life, to enjoying it.

He had a feeling Lenneth very much didn't like living. Nor could he blame her if that was true. To go through eternity sexually and physically, even mentally abused? With no one to turn to for safe haven and care? It was torture plain and simple.

Lezard had only had a brief taste of what Lenneth had gone through, but that had been enough. His stomach actually turned, his body wanting to cough up the wine he had been drinking. The bottle which had been dangling from his fingertips, now crashed against the floor. It's rich red color began seeping into the carpet, leaving behind stains that looked like blood.

There was other bottles on the floor, also empty and shattered. He had been busy, Lezard discovering the disadvantage to his divinity. A God couldn't get drunk as easily as a mortal, Lezard having drunk enough wine to have killed a human man by now. But his mind was still his own, still lucid and capable of coherent thought. And he hated that.

The urge to vomit passed, Lezard conjuring another bottle to him. The wine was so sweet it was almost bitter going down his throat,but even this wouldn't be enough to get him drunk. To make him forget for even one moment, the things Lenneth had told him. Or the dream he had had, Lezard almost choking now on a mouthful of his drink.

Dream was too nice a word for what he had experienced. It brought to mind light and happy images, where what Lezard had gone through, had been nothing short of twisted. A nightmare true and true, one that had been enough to tear an enraged scream from his throat. Lezard had actually woken up shaking, his hands making fists as his fingers long to tear into something. Into someone, Lezard recalling the images his dreaming mind had tormented him with.

Dreams of Lenneth were nothing new. Lezard had often lost himself to fantasies, both during sleep and during his waking hours. But where those had been pleasant, downright scintillating experiences, the nightmare had been the direct opposite.

It was made all the worse because it had started out normal enough. Lenneth, looking as ethereal and lovely as ever, standing but a few feet from him. Her warm, inviting smile had let Lezard know that this wasn't really happening, that this Lenneth existed only in his mind at the moment. That only fired his determination that one day Lenneth would feel for real, and that she would look at him the same way the figment did.

It hadn't been real, and yet Lezard had been content to dally with the dream Lenneth. To draw near to her in an attempt to work out some of the sexual frustrations that had built up within him. A man of pent up lusts and desires, Lezard had loads of tension coiling within him. It was only natural he sought some kind of release, even if it was not in the way he would have liked.

And so he had moved to approach the dream Lenneth. To take her in his arms and kiss her the way he could not yet kiss the real one. Only he never got the chance, the dream changing. Shadows had encroached upon their surroundings, creeping ever closer until dark hands had grabbed at Lenneth. Dragging the startled Goddess away from Lezard's reaching hands. Lezard had tried to follow, but while the shadows were fast, he had moved as though trapped in quicksand.

And as he had made his slow progress forward, the nightmare had distorted once more. Until he saw the silver clad figure of the God he had destroyed. Odin, who had looked to be in the flush of life, his mouth twisted into a cruel leer as he had begun to touch and manhandle the now naked Lenneth.

Seeing Odin just near Lenneth was enough to make Lezard's blood boil, but to witness the once King of all Gods putting his rotting hands all over Lenneth's body? A rage had filled him, Lezard having tried to call upon the power he had taken from the dead God. But in that nightmare, he might as well have been human, no divine energies flowing through him. Nor had Lezard been able to call upon the magics he had so enjoyed as a mortal, the man rendered helpless to do anything but watch as Odin slapped Lenneth for her resistance.

The sickening sound of her jaw breaking had followed the slap. The only still rational part of his mind had whispered to Lezard that this was nothing more than a nightmare. His mind was building on the things Lenneth had told him, giving to life a vivid picture of the abuse she had talked about. But to Lezard it hadn't mattered that it was a dream. He knew it had happened for real, though the circumstances and surroundings might have been different.

It was nothing short of a blessing that Lezard had awakened before the nightmare had gone any further. And all because Lezard didn't think he'd be able to handle actually seeing Odin rape Lenneth. Even just the hint of it, had been enough to have him shaking, his scream echoing throughout the crystal palace he had constructed himself. Lenneth had not come to investigate the source of his anguish, but then why would she? As far as Lenneth was concerned, Lezard was just another Odin, just another tyrant to hurt and use her for his own twisted satisfaction.

It was the fear that Lenneth might be right even just a little, that had set Lezard to drinking. To trying to examine all his actions, to trying to find the justification for what he had done. Lezard kept on trying to reassure himself that there wasn't any true wrong in pursuing Lenneth the way he had. But guilt he hadn't been aware of before this night, was eating at him. Hissing at him that he was no better, seeing a woman he wanted, and moving to take her at the cost of so many others. But he had never meant to hurt Lenneth, even as he fought and killed countless others. Even as his actions rewrote history, setting the world onto a new path, an alternate reality where only some lived while many others never came into existence.

The hard look at himself, at his actions? It was doing nothing to reassure Lezard. Not when he remembered how determined he had been to catch Lenneth, going so far as to try and build a mortal vessel to house her soul. To trap her in a cage of flesh, to make her the same as him, and easier to hold.

Did the fact that he had attempted those things out of a misguided love truly excuse him? He knew it did not. Just as there was no excuse for not learning more about Lenneth, about seeing her past, rather than chasing after the image he had had of her. But then, Lezard hadn't wanted to think about her having a life before him. He hadn't wanted to consider that she might have friends, family, even a lover. Nor had he wanted to think that in taking her, Lezard would be ripping Lenneth away from whatever life she had had.

The more he thought about it, the more upset he became. Until it reached the point Lezard needed to know everything about Lenneth. About who she was, what she had done, who she had known. It would be an extensive invasion of her privacy, but when rated against what Lezard had already done, what was one more crime against his Goddess? And Lezard needed to know, if only to reassure himself that he had inadvertently done Lenneth some good in going after her.

But in order to learn about her, it meant seeing into her past. Into experiencing the bad along with whatever good she had had. Lezard didn't fear much, but learning the extensive details of her abusive past? It made him hesitate and turn to drink, as though Lezard was trying to nerve himself through extensive amounts of liquid courage. But how many bottles of wine had he had so far? He had lost count, far too many ending up as no more than broken shards of glass on his floor. And each bottle brought him no closer to doing that which he HAD to do.

How much longer would he sit in the dark, needing to do know, but fearing the truth? He could put off the learning forever, and still be plagued by doubts and uncertainties. Still be floundering for the absolute reassurance that he WAS better than Odin and the others of Lenneth's past. And yet he held this need to protect himself, to hide from the truth of Lenneth's long life. Lezard could keep denying it wasn't as bad as he feared, and almost believe that lie so long as he didn't turn to the past. It was the coward's way out, and Lezard felt he was anything but a coward.

Draining dry the bottle in his hand then smashing it against the floor, Lezard rose from the chair he had been reclining in. Glass crunched under his bare feet, the minor cuts and scrapes healing almost instantaneously as he walked. The shadows of the darkened room seemed to flee at his approach, a few solitary candles lighting on the table. Their flames flickered, shedding light on the items that lay scattered across the wood's surface. Lezard ignored everything in favor for reaching for a cloth that was so dark a purple it might as well have been black. What looked like a crystal ball was revealed when he jerked back the cloth, the light colored stone as big as a human child's head. But it was no crystal ball, but something infinitely better.

The Philosopher's Stone.

It looked so unobtrusive, so mundane. With just a glance, no one would ever guess to the power it held, the wealth of information stored within it. For the last several years of Lezard's mortal life, the stone had not only granted him the secrets of the nine realms, but had been the reason for much of his power. It had granted him the forgotten spells, the ancient and forbidden magics the Gods themselves had tried to destroy. It had led him to wondrous places, told him of the time machine in Dipan, even granted him the knowledge of how a mortal could become a God. But most of all, it had shown Lezard HER.

Lenneth.

If he hadn't been so nervous, so apprehensive about what he was about to, Lezard would have smiled. The memory of that first sighting, always stirred something in his heart, Lezard falling in love with Lenneth all over again each and every time he recalled that moment.

Of course, back then he hadn't noticed the look in her eyes. That emptiness that she used to guard against the hurts being done to her. He had been too busy having the very breath knocked out of him, Lezard suckered punched by the beauty he beheld inside the stone.

He realized now that moment had to have been a rare one for Lenneth. A rare time when she was granted a minute to herself, Lenneth standing on the steps of a chapel that overlooked a field of green and white. Light had been shining down on her, Lenneth lifting her face up to feel the sun's heat. Her hair had never looked more vibrant, the silver giving way to the sapphire highlights that always shone brighter in the light. She hadn't been dressed in her Valkyrie armor then, Lezard mistaking her for an extraordinary beautiful woman. He wouldn't even realize it was Asgard he was seeing, until another Goddess literally floated over to Lenneth.

The philosopher's stone wasn't good at conveying sound with it's images. Whatever the one Goddess had said to Lenneth, was lost to him. But it hadn't mattered, Lezard already in love and forming the start of an obsession. That obsession would only grow when Lenneth's armor formed over her clothing, Lezard realizing what she was by the feathered helm on her head. From that point on he made it a point to learn about just what a Valkyrie truly was. Low level Goddesses who did the grunt work of the Asgardians, Lezard never dreamed there was another side to the tasks that burdened Lenneth. Lezard knew now he had been careless, that he had allowed himself to be satisfied with surface answers rather than dig harder for the truth.

He would get that truth now, a grim expression on Lezard's face as he held his hand over the philosopher's stone. It lit up, then flickered as though hesitating in response to the wordless command Lezard was giving it. Almost as though the stone was reluctant to show him the truth, as though it feared it was something Lezard's mind might not be able to handle. He almost scowled then, knowing whatever it showed him, he had to be strong. To not only withstand the knowledge, but to accept that part of Lenneth's past so he could somehow help her heal from it.

"Show me." Lezard growled out loud, forcing his will onto the stone. Again the light from within flickered, a loud whine of noise sounding. The stone seemed to tremble in place on the table, as though it was attempting to fight his commands. Lezard continue to impose his desire onto the stone, until it had no choice but to show him or splinter apart in the process.

Images began forming, speeding by to fast for him to focus on any one. He'd catch a glimpse of a face here and there, or see bodies moving. His stomach would cramp upon the realization that repeating over and over was the sight of Lenneth, her body often pinned down, or otherwise violated. It shouldn't have mattered by whom, but Lezard was taking careful note of the faces, making a list of names. Any who ended up on that list was as good as dead, Lezard making a vow to himself then and there to personally see to the end of all of Lenneth's previous tormentors.

As lists went, it wasn't a particularly long list. But it was still sizeable, several noteworthy names on it. That included the Queen of Nifleheim, the Goddess Hel having been one to hold Lenneth at her side for nearly half a millennium. Lezard was almost looking forward to ending Hel, though a part of him wished he could think of a punishment horrid enough to inflict on the Goddess before sending her to oblivion. But anything he could devise, was something the Queen would surely enjoy, Hel having proved to be sick and sadistic. It hadn't been enough to rape Lenneth, to beat her. She had tortured her, and allowed several demons at a time to take their turns hurting Lenneth. And all the while Hel had watched, a twisted smile on her face, the queen sometimes naked and being pleasured by those same demons as Lenneth screamed.

As inventive as Hel had been, she ranked second compared to Odin. Lezard supposed it was the betrayal of trust between a creation and its creator. Between those that should have been a family to each other. Lezard may not have been able to hear the words, but he saw the betrayed look in Lenneth's eyes, the confused hurt on her face as Odin had his way with her. It wasn't just that one time. Odin had been almost crazed, alternating between raping and beating Lenneth. Instilling if not obedience in her, then the hopelessness of her situation. Making her think there was no escape, that she would never be free. Training her for the trap he was laying out for his arch rival Surt.

It made Lezard angry, made tears come to his eyes. He didn't know what was stronger, the sick feeling of revulsion in him, or the rage that had no true outlet at the moment. Odin was dead, his very soul shattered so that there was no possibility of his reincarnation. And yet for one moment, Lezard wished it wasn't so. And all because he thought the death he had given Odin, the ending of his very existence had happened too fast for what had been done to Lenneth.

Nor did it make Lezard feel any better to know there were others like Hel, who still waited for his vengeful hand to fall upon them. Not when he knew no matter how many he killed, how many he tortured and turned their abuse back on them, it would never wipe away the scars left on Lenneth's soul. She would always bear the pain of what had been done, remember the numerous crimes committed against her. Lezard would remember too, forever touched and changed by what he had born witness to. His love and admiration for Lenneth hadn't lessened, but it had changed. It had become stronger, Lezard marveling at how she had survived her long eternity of near endless abuse.

He thought he understood everything now. Understood it and felt ashamed for ever thinking it would be easy to heal Lenneth. To have even compared the healing to the task of displacing Odin was unthinkable now, Lezard realizing to heal Lenneth's scars would be a hundred, no a thousand times more difficult than becoming a God.

Realizing what a fool he had been, Lezard turned away from the philosopher's stone. The candle flames flickered, the shadows seeming to swarm closer to the lights. With just a thought, Lezard let the flames die, the fledgling God stalking from the room. Heading unerringly to the room Lenneth occupied, Lezard NEEDING to see her.

She wasn't there, Lezard being forced to track her through the crystal palace. Until he came to the very rooftop, the sky of his world having opened up to rain down a heavy relentless pelt of water. The storm that had been threathening all night, had finally come and he hadn't even noticed until he stood outside, the rain soaking his skin thoroughly, his pants clinging to his legs. It was there, that he found Lenneth, the Goddess standing on the very edge of the roof. She was clad in a nightgown, the thin fabric a light gray in color. The rain had soaked it to the point the gown had turned translucent, Lenneth's body easily seen through the wet fabric. Lezard's mouth went dry at the sight, watching as the Goddess stood with her head tilted up so that the rain washed over her face like a torrent of tears.

She hadn't noticed him, hadn't even acknowledge his presence. Lezard would be gone long before she did, but for now the God just stood there and watched. Watched and wondered how one woman, how any woman, let alone one as extraordinary as Lenneth, could have endured so much for so long on her own. She was strong, stronger than perhaps anyone has given her credit for. But even she had had a breaking point. It had to have been reached for Lenneth to have systematically shut down her feelings and emotions. It would be a problem dealt with on another night, but before Lezard could be ready to tackle that, he had a vendetta of vengeance to carry out. 

-

To Be Continued...  
>Had a hard time getting the ending paragraphs right. X_X And now I have an image in my head that I can't resist...one of Lezard presenting someone's head to Lenneth. Or several someone's! XD<p>

-Michelle 

Ms D, hello! And thanks! I love getting feedback, and it makes me happy to hear you might try to comment again. Makes me extra motivated! And between here and my journal, I've been feeling pretty motivated for Spoils! In fact...I have several chapters written...I still have to proofread at least one...sometimes it's hard to stop writing long enough to look over the finished chapters for mistakes. *blush*

But I do admit I am a little worried now...I didn't notice if I was being repetitive, and now I worry that the chapters I haven't yet posted and proofread, will feel that way. But in stressing who Lezard is mad at, I'm trying to make it clear who he is angry with, who he blames. That he is not mad at Lenneth for her past, that he doesn't blame her for what had happened to her, Sad thing is, if it was chapter three that had the repetitiveness, can you imagine how much shorter it would have been without it? X_X Yes it still bothers me that three was so short.

Aw, I'm all aglow to hear this is your favorite. :D It is rather different too...what with Lenneth pretty much trying to throw herself at him, seduce him for all the wrong reasons. But she is convinced he is just like all the others, and he didn't help matters with how far he went in his pursuit of her. Course he kinda HAD to, cause how else would he have gotten her attention? XD


	7. Chapter 7

The rain pounded relentlessly, fat, harsh drops that held enough force to noticeably thump against her skin. Within seconds of the storm's start, Lenneth was thoroughly drenched, her unbound hair plastered to her back, the nightgown she wore sopping and see through. She hadn't minded, the cold rain a welcome relief to oppressive heat that had overtaken the night.

Both the storm and the heat were unusual, elements that did not fit in with the picture perfect paradise Lezard had created. She liked it better this way, the unpredictable weather reminding her of Midgard. With the rain pouring down on her, for a time she could forget, could almost imagine she was there, rather than trapped in one man's idea of heaven.

Lenneth's Midgard hadn't been perfect, hadn't been free of problems. But it had held a charm all it's own, full of people who had loved and adored their Goddess, who had worked with her to make the realm a better place day by day. Midgard had been Lenneth's idea of paradise, and she knew it was no small coincidence that she had fixated on the one realm that hadn't been home to any of her past tormentors.

That had changed now. Lezard might never again return to Midgard, but he had tainted the place all the same. Born an inhabitant of that realm, Lezard had taken his desires to new extremes, Growing obsessed with Lenneth, stalking her, hunting the power needed to capture her. In the past, Lenneth would have never considered a human dangerous, let alone powerful enough to rival the Gods in both strength and desire.

A human wouldn't have been able to hold Lenneth. Their frail mortal bodies incapable of the strength needed to maintain any claim they might have laid on the Goddess. Another immortal, be they God, demon, or giant, would have easily destroyed any who dared try. Lezard himself should have been struck down for his daring, but somehow he had accomplished what had been thought to be impossible.

It was that supposed impossibility that had led Lenneth to be lax. That had let her grow pliant on her throne. She like so many others, Odin included, had never dared dream a human could wrought such trouble. And just like Odin had, Lenneth was now paying the price for that assumption. She wasn't dead, but she might as well be, cut off from the life she had started to enjoy. A life that even now she regretted, Lenneth not wanting to remember or mourn what had been lost. If she let herself think about what she had had, the pain would never stop. Her tears would mingle with the rain on her face, Lenneth breaking down completely.

It was better not to remember. Not to think, not to feel. It was better not to yearn endlessly for that which she can never have, that which she wasn't supposed to ever have tasted. In trying to free herself, she had perhaps done the most hurting of wounds. And that was saying something, when compared to all the hurts she had experienced in her past. But the rapes and the beatings, the torture of her flesh, didn't hold the same broken hearted feel that losing her kingdom had given her. Refusing to cry, refusing to expend the proper amount of energy needed to mourn, Lenneth let the rain bombard her as though the cold waters could wash away her loss, and all her emotions.

She'd stand out there for hours, the storm looking like it would never let up. It was because this world's creator was suffering his own kind of bad mood, the stifling heat a sign of his frustration, the storm itself a manifest of his rage. Lenneth wasn't sure what Lezard had to be so upset about, though she had heard his anguished scream. She had not been driven to go to him, to even attempt to offer false comforts. He would either get his temper under control, or flood this world in reaction to whatever was so upsetting him.

The first time Lezard had stepped out on the roof, Lenneth didn't so much as acknowledge him. He hadn't said a word to her, but Lenneth had felt him watching her. The frustrations she caused within him, almost had a physical presence of their own, but Lezard had not acted to alleviate them. Instead he had merely stood there watching her, minutes passing before he abruptly stalked away. She didn't understand him, or why Lezard continued to deny himself where Lenneth's body was concerned. Not only had he not had sex with her, he had avoided Lenneth for the rest of the day. As though the temptation that she was, was too much for him to reasonably tolerate and resist for long periods of time. But her offer still stood, Lenneth waiting, wanting Lezard to end this game, and just use her like all the others had. She was resigned to that inevitable, unavoidable fate, and Lezard accomplished nothing by waiting.

Not understanding his reasons, and contemplating the seductions she might have to do, Lenneth still wasn't distracted enough to not notice when reality split apart. His divine energy seemed to crowd in around her, Lezard stepping through a shower of gold sparkles. His arrival alone was not enough to get Lenneth to react, even though Lezard was decidedly a mess. Clad only in silk draw string pants, the black fabric soaked through in a matter of seconds, the God having had blood splattered all over him. Even the glass panes of his spectacles held droplets of the stuff, though the rain worked quickly to wash them off.

In his hands, Lezard held a covered object, Lenneth's eyes briefly looking it's way when Lezard thrust it towards her. Her gaze returned to his when Lezard announced rather gruffly that it was a gift for her. She was almost surprised, Lenneth not having been the recipient of many gifts. In fact she could remember only one other who had dared try to give her something, a human mercenary who had gone by the name of Lucian.

She remembered what followed the attempt to send her an earring, how Loki had used Lucian's own desires as a cover for the God's stealing of the Dragon Orb. Much chaos and death had followed Loki's theft, culminating in the fight Lenneth shouldn't have been able to win.

Once again Lenneth had been the catalyst to death and change. All because that human boy had desired her as so many others had. And just like the others, he hadn't seen Lenneth as a real person, but an object. A tool needed to fulfill his own fantasies, Lucian wanting Lenneth to become another woman. Some village girl who had died too young, a crush Lucian had never truly gotten over. If Lucian had been capable of having his way, Lenneth would have been stripped of the one thing that had always been hers. Her name.

Shaking off that unsettling thought, Lenneth arched an eyebrow at Lezard. "The last time someone tried to give me a gift, it nearly resulted in the permanent end of Creation as we know it."

Was that the slightest bit of hesitation that flickered in Lezard's eyes? But it didn't stop him from handing her the covered object, Lezard speaking. "I'll risk it."

The object was heavy in her hands, weighing a good several pounds. She couldn't muster up the proper curiosity, even as Lezard eyed her for any reaction. He seemed almost anxious, as though he was eager to please her with whatever this was. Lenneth suppressed a sigh, and pulled off the cloth. Almost, almost she gasped in reaction, so taken aback was she by his gift.

The head still retained much of the beauty the Queen of Nifleheim had possessed in life. Even with blood splattered on her pale skin, her eyes wide open in shock, her mouth frozen in a silent scream. Hel looked as though she had known she was about to die, and judging by the amount of blood on Lezard, he had had to fight past her demons and personal guard to reach the queen. 

Lenneth wasn't quite sure what to make of this gift. Wasn't sure what madness had motivated Lezard to target the ruler of Nifleheim. Did confusion slip into her eyes? It must have, for Lezard was speaking.

"I know it doesn't begin to make up for what she did to you. What they all did to you. But she's gone now, her soul wiped out of existence."

Lenneth knew what Lezard was expecting, what he was waiting for. The thank you and gratitude she could not voice, Lenneth telling herself she didn't feel much of anything to know Hel's very existence had been ended.

Disappointed at her lack of response, Lezard continued. "She's only the first. I will find and take care of the others."

"To cement your hold over me..." It was more statement than question, Lenneth thinking it the only thing that made sense to her about Lezard's most recent actions. He was taking out the competition, making sure no one strong enough existed to take her from him. But it didn't match up to the shocked expression he wore in response to her words, Lezard quickly shaking his head no.

"What? No!" He all but sputtered, his movements agitated. "I didn't, I mean I..." He was frowning now, the words stammering out of Lezard. "I didn't do it for the reason you said! I did it FOR you, for your peace of mind." He only grew more unsettled at Lenneth's quiet stare. "I wanted to free you, to make sure you never had to fear falling into Hel's hands again."

"I don't understand." Lenneth said. And she didn't. The mere idea of someone doing something for Lenneth, doing something nice for her benefit? It was inconceivable! Lenneth couldn't comprehend Lezard acting in this way without a personal gain to himself. "Why would you bother?"

"Why?" Another frown from him, Lezard lifting a hand to roughly rush back the wet bangs on his forehead. "Because she hurt you! She was second to no one but Odin when it came to the depths of her cruelty and abuse. Hel tortured and raped you, got off on your screams. She laughed while you bled, swallowed down your cries with her kisses. She laid hands on you Lenneth, not out of love or kindness, but for sadistic pleasure."

He was getting upset, his nostrils flaring, the amethyst of his eyes sparking with anger. The look on Lezard's face said he wanted desperately for Lenneth to understand, and she was honestly making an effort. But the Goddess couldn't get over the idea of someone being bothered by how she had been used by another. That she could matter that much, be something more than a possession or toy.

"She had to die." Lezard continued insistently. "For your sake and mine."

"Yours?" A wary note in her voice now.

"I couldn't tolerate the thought of that bitch living even one second more after what she had done. She had to pay, they ALL have to pay."

"Of course." Lenneth said dully, abruptly dropping Hel's severed head. "You had to do what you had to for your own peace of mind." The head made a sickening sound, squelching as bits smashed against the roof top's floor. Some sort of fluid splattered onto her bare feet, but Lenneth didn't even flinch.

"I didn't do it just for me!" Lezard exclaimed, even more upset than he had previously been. "I did it to avenge you, to avenge your honor."

"Honor?" Lenneth nearly snorted in mocking disbelief then. "I have none. I haven't had any virtues to reclaim since day one of my life."

"You're wrong. You have honor! You have integrity, kindness. Yours is a loving nature, evident in the way you helped the humans of Midgard to flourish under your rule. Yours is a pure soul, not ruined by all that has happened to you."

She was determined not to feel, to not react to what Lezard was saying save to scoff at him. "Pure? Me?" Lezard gave an emphatic nod in response, Lenneth shaking her head no. "There's nothing pure or untainted about me!" She beat at her chest with a fist, thumping it hard over her breast. "From the time of my first breaths, I have been defiled. Odin himself dirtied me before I could so much as speak. The filth has only piled up through out the years, until every part of me is dirty. It's not just the sex, it's everything! From the murders I've had to commit, to the wars fought over me, to the insanity I inspire in so many. For every crime committed in the pursuit of me, it only adds to the sins weighing down my soul!" She couldn't stop, Lenneth actually feeling enough to sneer at Lezard. "And you think a death, or even a handful of deaths can somehow restore me to something I've never been?"

In response, Lezard snagged hold of one of wrists. "Lenneth!" He drew her attention to the hand he held, Lenneth seeing the fresh blood that coated it. "Filth can be washed away so that one is clean again. It need not cling even to one's soul." He was gentle as he began using a cloth he had conjured to clean off her hand. The heavy rain helped things further, the blood being completely wiped away.

"It still remains..." Lenneth whispered. "Some bit of it still lingers no matter how much you wish otherwise..."

He was still holding her hand, Lezard staring at her. She couldn't bear the look in his eyes, that sadness a million times worse than any anger, any frustration or desire he had shown her. Lenneth wanted to destroy that look, to destroy that emotion that led him to pity her. For though she could handle his lusts, his temper, his bad moods, the pity was a foreign and ultimately too powerful an emotion for Lenneth to tolerate.

She was about to do something that ended all his beliefs about her virtues, something that would leave Lezard with no doubt as to how dirty a woman Lenneth truly was. The tightening of his fingers around her wrist implied she had somehow tipped him off, though Lezard hadn't guess her true intent in the moment.

"Lenneth!" Lezard cried out, as with her free hand, she savagely ripped open the front of his pants. She shoved at him, and somehow, Lezard allowed himself to be caught off balance. As he fell back against a ledge jutting out of the crystal, Lenneth dropped to her knees. Hel's severed head lay mere inches from her. those wide, horror stricken eyes locked onto Lenneth one last time. As though even in death, Hel had maintained her sick voyeuristic need to watch Lenneth debase herself.

Lenneth now had both her hands free, though she quickly occupied them with groping Lezard. Before the God even had time to right himself, she had shoved his flaccid cock in her mouth. There was no art or tease to what she was doing, just an expert way to manipulate him into an erect state quickly.

She nearly choked, both on him and the bitterness fueling her. He cried out her name a second time, but was otherwise still. Lenneth didn't expect that to last, anticipating that at any moment he would start to move. That he would fuck her mouth as hard as he could, for as long as he could last. She was prepared for it, wrapping her arms around his legs, holding his bottom half to her as the head of his cock touched the back of her throat. Lenneth felt no true victory when Lezard's hands tentatively went in her hair, only a bitter upset that he was proving her right. He was no different from any of the others, just as she was nothing more than a damaged whore. Forever used, forever dirty, and no amount of cleaning could change that.

I know, I know...what a cliffhanger to end it on! It was a struggle to get this chapter to this size too...and it's still kinda short. I tried my best, but could not extend it any farther with conversation, and wanted/needed it to end where it did.

This fic keeps evolving as I write it too...X_X But it's interesting, fascinating to see how the characters develop...and interact. *goes to hide in blushy embarrasment now*

To Be Continued Of Course!

Michelle

Ruvian, thank you! I am happy if I can stir the readers emotions like that. So thank you, your kind words really made me happy to see! Yes I only so far write for Valkyrie Profile, and Voltron. But those are the really the only things that stir my heart, inspire me to write. Thanks again!


	8. Chapter 8

The tearing open of his pant's front, was followed by a strong push, Lezard startled enough to allow Lenneth to catch him off guard. He actually stumbled, his ruined pants falling halfway down, tripping him up further so that he crashed against the ledge. Lenneth didn't give him time to recover, the woman moving with the speed the Gods were known for. Even as Lezard tried to right himself, he braced himself for her attack, never dreaming the Goddess would drop down to her knees.

Lezard barely had time to so much as gawk in disbelief before Lenneth had her mouth around his cock. Instantly, inside the warm wetness of her mouth, he had hardened. As though matching the violent way she had attacked him, Lezard's own arousal just as fast, just as strong as Lenneth's push. He felt impossibly huge, aroused to the point of bursting and all Lenneth had done was place him in her mouth.

The pressure grew worse, Lenneth forcing his sensitized flesh deeper. Faintly, he thought he heard the sound of discomfort she had made, Lezard crying out her name. Lenneth didn't stop, didn't even try to give herself a chance to breathe, forcing him into her throat. It made him beyond crazy, Lezard fighting desperately to think, to remember why this was all wrong. But his brain was rapidly shutting down, the ability to think beyond the moment fleeing as Lenneth knelt waiting.

The softness of her tongue quivered beneath the underside of his erection, Lezard moaning her name. He was no longer trying to right his fall, leaning heavily against the crystal, his body supported in part by Lenneth's arms which were wrapped around him, hugging his bottom half to her. Some of part of his rapidly unraveling thoughts recognized she was all but holding him prisoner, but he couldn't remember why she would bother. Why anyone would want to get away from such pleasure.

Save for the initial swallowing, Lenneth wasn't moving. And it was driving him INSANE! And yet he didn't want to pull back for even one second, Lezard's breath rasping out of him. Sweat actually beaded on the sides of his face, and not even the chill of the rain pelting him could cool the fire Lenneth had set blazing forth within him.

He was going to move. He HAD too! His body demanded it, the UNIVERSE demanded it. His butt clenched, Lezard preparing to thrust. And in that moment, where his mind was all but empty, focused on nothing but the immense pleasure of having the Goddess that he loved service him with her mouth, Lezard's eyes focused. Not on the woman kneeling before him, holding onto him like her life depended on it, but something just beyond her. The disembodied head, Hel's partially smashed remains staring almost mockingly at him with those eyes that still retained the shock and horror she had expressed when he had torn her head free of her body.

It didn't fit in with the moment, no part of Hel belonging here. Dead though she may be, he didn't want even the taint of her body to intrude on any of his private moments with Lenneth. And though his cock was currently enveloped, Lezard experiencing the best moment yet of his life, he fought to think past the pleasure. To actually look beyond himself, to see he was filthy and covered in the dried remains of demons' blood.

Frowning and knowing he would have at least insisted on a bath before engaging Lenneth in this manner, he looked down at his Goddess. She wasn't looking up at him, her stare fixated on the spot of skin just above the jutting flesh she held in her mouth. And though each quiver of her trembling tongue worked to steal the thoughts from him, Lezard reached towards her. Already knowing what he would see, and yet clinging to the vain hope that her eyes would show him something other than total blankness.

His fingers in her hair were hesitant, Lezard wishing this moment was anything but what it truly was. An insistent tug on her hair, brought Lenneth's gaze up to his, the breath expelling out of him at the empty look she showed him. She wasn't enjoying this, she wasn't full of desire. Nor was she showing him pain and discomfort, Lenneth just enduring his shaft in her throat. As though this was yet another ordeal she had to get through.

What the rain hadn't been able to do, Lenneth's blank stare accomplished. She reacted, Lenneth sensing she was losing him. His fingers tightened on her hair, threathening to pull out the glossy strands if she so much as moved. It stopped Lenneth short, the Goddess obeying him by not bobbing her mouth on his length.

More sweat beaded on him, mingling with the rain and dripping off his face. Even with the realization that this wasn't the kind of moment he had envisioned for them both, that Lenneth didn't truly want this, Lezard found it hard to separate from her. Even knowing any pleasure he received if he continued would be fleeting, and detrimental to a true relationship between them, Lezard was still tempted. Still fighting the feel of her mouth, the quivering of her tongue against him.

With a vicious curse, he began jerking Lenneth off of him. A hiss followed his obscene exclamation, Lenneth's teeth scraping over his cock's flesh. Lezard had the feeling she had done it on purpose, as though to punish him for denying them both what she had tried to set into motion. That angered him, Lezard not understanding why Lenneth had done this, or why she sought to hurt him now.

Her arms let go of him at the same instant his dick popped free of her mouth. The cold rain couldn't soothe his erection entirely, Lezard in pain and red with rage and disappointment. He opened his mouth, ready to unleash a torrent of his anger and stopped short when he saw the emotion leaking into Lenneth's eyes. The bewildered, lost look of confusion that hurt him in a way different from the ache in his dick.

"Why?" Lenneth asked, voice soft, pained. It was exactly what he wanted to know, Lezard wanting to ask Lenneth why she had done what she had tried to do. And yet he faltered, his voice unable to form any real words as he stared at her hurt expression.

With a scream born of his pain and frustration, Lezard turned from her. He was already teleporting away, the divine energy he hadn't even thought to use during her attack on him warping him to the bedroom. The broken shards of glass stabbing into his foot, helped soothe some of the pain of his erection, Lezard stalking awkwardly towards the bathroom.

Light flooded the room upon his entrance, the silver taps already turning, water flowing out of the statue's spout. Lezard violently kicked off his torn pants, and flung his glasses on a marble countertop. He then all but dove head first into the bathtub, in the moment not caring if he knocked himself unconscious. Drowning would be preferable to the pain he was feeling, the pain that wasn't only centered on his dick, but his heart as well. Not even immersing himself in the ice cold waters could numb Lezard completely, the God howling like a wounded animal. Clutching at his head, pulling at his hair until handfuls of brown strands floated on the water's surface, Lezard was sick and disgusted, and mad. Mad at himself, mad at the people who had hurt Lenneth, maybe even a little mad at the Goddess herself.

The cold waters worked to cool down his body, but they could do nothing to soothe the torment of his heart. Or stop Lezard from replaying the last moments on the roof top, the God remembering everything from Lenneth shoving him into her mouth, to that lost little girl look in her eyes as she had asked him why.

It was what he dearly wanted to know, Lezard not understanding at all why Lenneth had done what she had tried to do. He didn't even know for certain what the trigger to her destructive behavior had been, if she had reacted that way to what he had been saying, or if she had simply tried to escalate things even further than she had before.

Suddenly he was shaking, a deep, near hysterical laugh upon him. He tossed back his head, Lezard letting the laugh come from deep within his belly. He covered his face with his hand, but didn't try to muffle the laugh. He had always been accused of having a fleeting grasp on his sanity, and now Lenneth seemed to be working to drive him over the edge completely. It was a problem he hadn't anticipated, Lenneth causing the kind of difficulties he couldn't have imagined. Never had Lezard expected her to be propositioning him every chance she got. Nor had he ever imagined he would refuse the pleasure she offered him.

A shudder went through him as he remembered the feel of her mouth around him, and the will power it had taken for him to refuse her. A few more close calls like that, and damaged or not, Lezard really would lose himself inside Lenneth. And with it, he would lose all chance at not only helping Lenneth recover, but his chance at winning her love for himself as well.

Slumping downwards, Lezard let the waters come up to his eyes. Now in addition to all else he had felt, Lezard was now depressed. Wondering not how he was going to fix things, but how he was going to maintain some kind of normalcy between them. Staying away from Lenneth wasn't the answer. She'd never heal if left on her own. But then Lezard didn't think he'd be able to help her if she kept throwing herself at him. And as much as Lezard like solving problems, proving his superiority in coming up with answers to the hard questions, Lenneth's damage was something he might never be able to fix. At least not on his own.

It was times like this that Lezard wished he hadn't killed all his friends. What he wouldn't give to sit Mystina down, the blonde mage a worldly woman knowledgeable in affairs of the heart. Hell even Alicia, the princess of Dipan might have had some kind of advice for him, if only because the girl could not stand to see another suffer.

Arngrim and Rufus wouldn't have been much help. The half elf seemed to barely have any experience where the fairer sex was concerned, while the brawny warrior Arngrim would have probably gladly taken Lenneth up on her sexual advances by now. In fact, most men would have and that was part of the problem, Lenneth so used to everyone just taking from her! Until Lezard, refusals of her charms had probably been something that had never happened to the Goddess! No wonder she was confused not to mention uneasy about what Lezard could possibly want from her.

Making a face, and letting out a deep sigh, Lezard used a soapy cloth to scrub off the dried demon's blood from his body. As he worked to clean himself, he continued to mull over the problem of what to do for Lenneth. How to help her when Lezard alone wasn't enough. With his small group of friends inconveniently dead, Lezard didn't have a lot of options. Not when he was loathe to invite strangers into his newly created world. But Lenneth NEEDED help. A help Lezard was fast realizing he couldn't supply on his own.

Finished with his scrubbing, Lezard rinsed off with the cold water. By now his body had cooled down to the point a mortal would be shivering with hypothermia. But to Lezard, a God, he merely had goose bumps all over his skin. He climbed out of the bathtub, a towel floating over to him. He immediately set to drying himself off, then retrieved his glasses and went into his bedroom. He picked out new clothing to wear, conscious of the still stifling heat that filled the palace. The storm had done nothing to cool things down inside, and Lezard was beginning to think the heat was a manifestation of his sexual frustration. It made Lezard wonder what other effects his mood would have on the weather, the God knowing there was still much he had to learn about his divinity.

The philosopher's stone should be able to help with that. It knew just about everything there was to know, although the intricacies of the heart and the complex relationships between individual people were one of the few things the stone could not explain. Perhaps people, their thoughts, feelings, their ever changing nature, was simply too difficult for any one thing to truly understand. Certainly there seemed to be no set rules when it came down to it, people's emotions unpredictable whether they were God, mortal, or any one of the dozen or so races that existed in the nine realms. One act could garner a multitude of responses, each one different and dependant on the feelings they roused within the individual. Feelings that were caused in part by the experiences that had shaped one into the person that they now were.

Lenneth was suffering from the things she had endured in her past. She tried to cope by shutting off her feelings completely, and by making assumptions about Lezard, about what he would want from her, and how he would react to the things she did. That he didn't act in the expected manner, the ways she had anticipated and had prepared herself to deal with, it threw Lenneth. That lost expression in her eyes pointed towards how disturbed Lezard was causing Lenneth to feel. Those disturbed feelings had not yet been enough for Lenneth to abandon such behavior, for her to stop testing him with the expectations that Lezard would fail. He knew Lenneth threw herself at him, not on the hopes he would surpass the expected behavior, but that he would bring her back to the old patterns of abuse that she was so familiar with.

She set him up to fail. Lenneth worked against him rather than with him, the Goddess almost needing Lezard to be the same as all the others that had come before him. It frightened him to know how very close this night he had come to doing just what she wanted, behaving just how Lenneth had anticipated he would.

This couldn't continue. It was only the second night in their eternity together, and yet Lenneth had nearly succeeding in undoing all Lezard had hoped for since the moment he had set out on the path to become her equal. To become a being that was worthy of her, though Lezard was now realizing simply becoming a God wasn't enough. It wasn't even close, Lenneth needing more. What that more was eluded him, Lezard coming to stop before the table that held the philosopher's stone on it's surface. He didn't for one second believe the stone would be able to give him the answer to that particular question, any more than he thought Lenneth could answer it for herself.

The stone knew where his thoughts lay, it's glow shining brighter a second before it dimmed enough for him to see the image inside it. Lenneth, having returned to the bedroom he had given her, the woman as visibly distraught as Lezard felt. That she was showing her feelings should have been an encouraging sign, but all Lezard could focus on was the pain Lenneth was in.

Still clad in the soaked nightgown, Lenneth sat not in the bed, not on any of the chairs crowding inside the room, but on the floor. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, Lenneth's arms hugged around them. There was no sound with the image, but it was still apparent Lenneth had been driven to tears. He, THEY, had finally done it, the two together having driven Lenneth to the point of breaking down completely.

He wanted to go to her, to try and offer her some form of comfort. But it was something he couldn't dare do in the moment. What words could he offer? What things could he do that wouldn't end in Lenneth hurting more? Pain lancing his own expression, Lezard crossly ordered the stone to cease tormenting him with the image of the sobbing Lenneth.

The philosopher's stone couldn't help him with what Lenneth really needed. And Lezard wasn't anywhere close to calling it a night. He was a flush with his own pain, his own turmoil, his mind refusing to quiet even long enough to sleep. But try as he might to turn his head towards further researching his new divinity, and the effects his very existence could have on his surroundings, Lezard couldn't stop thinking about Lenneth. About the problems her past had presented them with. The problems she needed to heal from, a healing he almost feared she was incapable of.

Healing, that was key. Lezard drummed his fingers on the table top, staring at the stone. Wishing there was some magic, some instantaneous fix for what ailed Lenneth. It wasn't possible to completely get over that kind of abuse, but it shouldn't rule Lenneth and her every thought, feeling, and action!

Again Lezard found himself wishing he had someone to talk to. Someone who could look at the situation as it was and offer some advice. Maybe even someone who could talk to Lenneth, get her to confide the things she would not or could not share with Lezard. As soon as Lezard thought that, his body went rigid, excitement rippling through him. Had not the humans of Midgard employed the use of an outsider to listen to a problem soul? Had not the temples provided priests and priestesses to hear the confessions of troubled minds, those holy men and women offering an ear without judgement, and advice from a different perspective? The soldiers who had survived Midgard's many wars, were the ones to use this kind of service most often, but Lezard understood that sometimes women and children went to the temples for counseling. Unburdening their grief over all kinds of abuse they had suffered, and seeking an understanding word, or counsel to somehow help them through their private pain.

He didn't know how successful these counselors were, if even the most experienced of healers could help Lenneth. But Lezard was willing to bank on the experience of the one who had started this practice on Midgard, on that person's ability to somehow soothe Lenneth's troubled soul by lending her an empathic ear.

If Lenneth's suffering could be eased in even one way, it would be worth the trouble it would cause to have to kidnap yet another person. 

To Be Continued... 

Michelle

Ruvian, some call me the Queen of cliffhangers. So not hating now!

Ms D, Waiii! WHat is with the cliffhanger hate? (Just kidding!) I almost didn't post though...was worried over people's reactions over what Lenneth was doing there at the end. I also worry people will misunderstand...was very nervous to post it.

And thank you! Glad you're enjoying the fic so far! Ha ha ha, Lezard is resisitng just barely, and is being driven crazy by a damaged if I make even less sense than usually. Only had an hour and a half of sleep. X_X


	9. Chapter 9

Moans sounded continuously, along with low muted cries that spoke of pain. Voices followed those cries, low hushed whispers trying to soothe the ones who were suffering. But for some, there was no quick easing of their pain, no medical miracle that could comfort them over the loss of a limb, or the hurt of a sword that had stabbed deep inside.

Some cried because they knew they were done for, their wounds more than even a Goddess could heal. Those were the worst, frustration and sadness welling inside her, making her feel completely useless. Helpless, as she hovered over the latest soon to be casualty, holding hands that were burning hot from the fever coursing through their body.

His eyes barely focused, the young man unable to see much of anything. But his hearing still worked, the man taking comfort from the prayers she whispered to him. The prayers that begged for his soul's safe journey, for the calm and peace that would follow the ending of his pain.

He was still lucid enough to have questions. Still able to speak in a hoarse voice that cracked on his pain. Asking her if he would finally have the rest he now longed for. She forced a smile, nodding a yes, telling him his soul would soon rejoin that of his family. That earned her a weak smile from him, the man telling her it had been several hundred years since he had last seen his wife.

She knew it would be a joyous reunion and still she wished he didn't have to die. That none of the people in her care had had to die. Nor could she be satisfied with the knowledge that these men and women had held death at bay for years, sometimes centuries due to their servitude to the Gods.

The man's grip on her hand was weakening, his fingers going limp. He was finally passing on, and she hadn't even known his name. She whispered one last blessing, and laid his hands down on the soft mattress of the cot. He'd fade soon, his body shimmering out of existence, his soul taking flight. Going to the reward he had earned for his service to the Gods.

There were others that needed her attention. Her assistants couldn't attend to everything, and there were many dying that wanted the comfort her touch could give them. There was no time to mourn the man who had died, a new soldier was on the brink of fading.

This man was older, a grizzled warrior that was covered in scars. So many had tried to kill him in the past, but though they had left a lasting impression on his body, they had never succeeded in taking his life. Until now. He would not be recovering from the stomach slash that had allowed his intestines to be seen.

She sat besides him, letting him hold her hand in a white knuckle grip ever time a spasm wracked his body in further pain. Just like with the man before him, she talked, whispering prayers and blessings. The grizzled warrior had no questions for her, almost eager for the pain to stop. She couldn't blame him, not when the act of breathing itself seemed to hurt him.

His back arched just before he died, a tortured scream emerging from his lips. The sound startled everyone in the room, the cry having been one of pure misery. Even she was shaken, freeing her hand from his weakening grip. Behind her, a man carried a woman in his arms, rushing forward to take the cot so recently vacated before another of her staff could lay down one of their patients on it.

They didn't have enough beds, even with the extra cots crowding into the room. Into all the rooms, the hall of healing packed with the injured and dying. Disinfectants and medicines scented the air, and still could not completely erase the smells of blood, of sickness and infection. Nor did she have enough staff to tend to everyone at once, harsh decisions having to be made.

They were facing the worst crisis she could ever remember. In all the millennia that she had lived, never had there been so many einherjar in need of saving. Not even in the last war, had there been as many casualties as there now was occurring. And there wasn't an end in sight, the realms in chaos, the people of the world panicking.

As though to punctuate her thoughts, a violent tremor shook the floor. People stumbled where they stood, and something heavy and made of glass crashed against the floor. The tremors were getting worse, the latest in a series of earthquakes that came ever more frequently.

The earthquakes were a sign, a signal of how bad things had become for Asgard. Starting not long after Odin and the divine lance, Gungnir had gone missing, the realm was starting to come apart. Already a few of the smaller floating islands had fallen from the sky, the Gods expending as much power as they could spare to stabilize the rest of the realm. But the only true solution would be for Gungnir or another item of similar power to be used to maintain what was left of the heavens.

The Gods were searching for just that kind of item. There were only four sacred treasures, and two's whereabouts were currently unknown. That left the sacred bow of Alfheim, and the mystical sword the dragon beast Bloodbane had swallowed. The elves and fairies of Alfeim guarded their treasure zealously, and Bloodbane had made a meal of the einherjar that had approached him.

Things weren't looking good, and not just for the realm of the Gods. Midgard was in danger, the orb that ensured it's continued peace and prosperity missing. Even if it had still had the Dragon Orb, there were many Gods who would have gladly sacrificed the realm of the humans in order to save their own.

As if Asgard didn't have enough trouble, they were also under attack. The Vanir of Jotunheim thought it their chance to seize Odin's throne, though what they hoped to do with a realm that was literally quaking apart she did not know. The Aesir weren't content to let the enemy Gods gain any foothold of power in Odin's world, and thus war had broken out.

The war could be put to an end if Odin returned. But rumors abounded about what had happened to the God. What had happened to Odin and to the Valkyries. Some whispered that even now, the Valkyries were with Odin, on some secret mission to gain more power. Others spoke in frightful tones that the King of the Gods was dead, and so were his Valkyries.

She didn't know what to believe herself, and Freya wasn't talking. But the fact remained that the Valkries had not been seen in a month's time, and no new souls had been claimed to become einherjar. That was unfortunate, given how many of the einherjar were dying fighting this latest war. It wouldn't surprise her if soon they had no warriors left, and if-when that happened, Asgard would be overrun.

And not just by the Vanir! The undead were on the move, searching for their King. The vampire Lord Brahms had been missing for years, but something was stirring the undead into action. Monsters were beginning to run rampant in the realms, and the demons of Nifleheim were fighting amongst themselves. Their Queen was dead, murdered before their eyes, and no one left alive was speaking on just who had committed the crime.

It wasn't the Ragnarok that the oracles had been predicting for several millennia, but then Creation might not survive long enough to see the Twilight of the Gods.

But there was nothing she could do. She was no fighter, her power laying in healing. A power that seemed almost worthless when she couldn't even pull off the miracles needed to stop the dying from passing on. But she would do what she could, offering care and comfort to those around her.

She couldn't, wouldn't take a break. Couldn't claim a moment to herself so long as there were souls who needed her help. Not even the concern of her staff was enough to get her to leave the sick rooms, not so long as she could still do something, no matter how small, for her those in her care.

She took up position besides another's bed, taking the hand of a youth who barely looked older than fifteen. He had been an einherjar for longer than that, perhaps two hundred years spent as a bow man. It wasn't right that he die now, his weapon of choice should have kept him out of the range of most weapons. But spells and arrows were a different matter, and both had caught this boy in the chest, sending poison spikes into his system.

The poison had been cured, but too late to turn back the damage it had done to his internal organs. His body was failing him, vital parts shutting down one by one. If she were to place her fingers on his pulse, even that would be slowing.

More tremors shook the building, marble dust falling loose from the ceiling. Would her hall of healing stand for much longer? But there were too many patients to move, and not enough Gods around to help her teleport everyone to safety.

"Lady Eir!"

She looked up at the sound of her name, seeing the warrior Miress rush into the room as fast as her limp would allow. Her armor was shattered in places, and there was blood staining her exposed flesh. As captain of Eir's private guard, Miress had definitely seen better days.

"Miress, what is happening?" Eir demanded, not letting go of the archer's hand. She maintained her air of calm, though inside she was alarmed. Worried and wondering who had done this to the swords woman.

"We..." The building shook again, the earthquake sounding so much like a loud rumble of thunder. It drowned out the words Miress was saying, the swords woman shrugging off one of the healers who had rushed to her side.

"You must get to safety!" Miress was saying, the rumble of sound dying down enough for her words to be heard. "You're in danger here."

"Leave? Now?" And yet she knew Miress wouldn't suggested such a thing lightly. "Just what is going on? Who did this to you?"

The tremors sounded again, and this time when they stopped, Eir could hear the screams that followed the sound of fighting. The clash of weapons were followed by the disperse of energy, the mystical power only another God could call upon.

"WHO DARES?" Eir was not often prone to fits of anger, but in this moment she allowed herself to feel and voice it. And all because the hall of healing was a sacred place, fighting forbidden there. Everyone, and that included the Vanir, knew Eir's hall held nothing of value beyond the medicines and healers needed to tend to the sick and injured.

It wasn't just a place to be tended to, but could also be considered neutral ground. A place where friend and enemy alike could be treated without fear. She didn't know who was breaking the rules of this place, but she didn't hold them in high regard.

"You must leave!" Miress was before her, the einherjar reaching to take Eir by the arm. Trying to guide the Goddess away from the archer's bed. "It's you he's after!"

"He?" Eir questioned sharply.

"I don't know his name. But he is powerful."

A loud boom of sound, the open doorway to the room widening from the explosion of ether, making Miress words quite the understatement. Eir allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, but she wasn't going to run away. And strong though Miress was, the warrior was no match for a divine, even if the Goddess in question wasn't the equal of the likes of Freya and Thor.

Sputtering protests, and issuing pleas, Miress trailed after Eir who stalked towards the smoking ruin that was the door. The fighting was extremely close, and Eir was startled to realize the ether blast that had destroyed the doorway hadn't even been done on purpose but from an attack that had been misfired or deflected. Eir didn't know what made her more angry. That the fighting was happening, or that this fool endangered all of her staff and the sick with his antics.

"Lady Eir, I ask you one last time..." Miress was begging. "Please..."

But Eir had sighted the fighters, men and women dancing about the rubble, sometimes disappearing out of sight as the fighting lingered at the bend of the hall. Whoever was lobbing blasts of ether at them, he had yet to come around the turn, but he wouldn't be held back for much longer.

Squaring her shoulders, Eir marched forward. Miress trailed after her, Eir realizing the warrior didn't even have a sword with her. It must have been lost when the attack had begun. Miress was lucky she hadn't lost her arm along with her sword, and Eir wondered just what the extent of her injuries were. But there would be time later to find out, or at least that is what Eir hoped.

The fighters had caught sight of Eir and Miress, shock on their face, along with true fear for the Goddess' well being. It might have made Eir turn back, but she was letting her anger fuel her. She continued her stride forward, eyes locked onto the figure of a man, a God she had never seen before, sparkling gold ether orbs in each of his hands.

With careful precision, he cast them out, the orbs avoiding Eir completely. Her long blonde hair blew out from behind her, stirred up by the windy passage of the orbs. The einherjar of her private guard cried out, moving to avoid the orbs. She kept enough faith in their abilities to not be killed by this latest round of blasts, tried not to focus on the fact that the warrior Eulia was missing from the scene.

Instead, her face a mask that could barely hide her anger, she strode over to the God. He locked eyes with her blue ones, his lips twisting into a pleased smile. He actually began to speak to her, but before he could do more than say her name, her hand was airborne. Calling upon energies she didn't often use, Eir powered her slap with destructive ether. She didn't for one instant believe the slap would tear off the God's face, or knock some sense into him. It was nothing more than a manifestation or her own rage and disappointment, Eir wanting to let the God know just how upset she was with him.

All sound seemed to die in the hall, her einherjar standing frozen in shock. In all the years they had guarded Eir, they had never seen the Goddess lift her hand in violence. Even the God was stunned, his glasses knocked off his face.

"Just who do you think you are?" EIr was shaking, not from fear, but from indignation and anger.

The brown haired God blinked his eyes slowly, before speaking. "Lezard Valeth." The name meant nothing to her, but the words that followed almost cooled her anger. "I am the inheritor of your fool King's power."

She knew then the rumors about Odin were true, the King of Gods dead. But she couldn't focus on that in the moment, standing proud and tall as she all but glared at this Lezard. "This is a sacred place!" She snapped. "Neutral land, a place for the sick and injured to rest without fear. There is NOTHING for you here!"

"There is YOU."

EIr hadn't wanted to believe Miress when the einherjar had said she was in danger. But now? Hearing this God admit that Eir was what he was after? She almost regretted not leaving.

His hand reached for her arm, and a second later an arrow barreled into his shoulder. This Lezard didn't even cry out in pain, ignoring the arrow but not the archer who had sent it flying.

"No!" cried Eir, as ether torpedoed in the direction of Vlad.

"You are to come with me." A weak groan followed the explosion, Vlad letting them know he was still alive.

"What business do you have with Lady Eir?" demanded Miress. It was a good question, Eir knowing she wasn't good enough for anything other then healing. She wasn't even in high standing in the pantheon of Gods, being considered too weak and too lacking in riches to matter much at all.

"I do not answer to the likes of you." sneered Lezard.

"You will answer to ME." Eir told him. Lezard narrowed his eyes at her, but Eir refused to be intimidated.

"There is...someone in need of your help." It was clear he was speaking with great reluctance, every word grating out through clenched teeth.

"Then you should have brought them here, instead of barreling in balls blazing!" snapped Miress. Eir winced at Miress' choice of words, though she did agree with what the warrior had said.

"There are reasons why I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Eir demanded, but the look on his face said he wouldn't answer that question.

An earthquake began shaking the building, Lezard once again reaching for Eir's arm. She stepped back out of reach, watching as the anger flashed in his oddly colored eyes.

"Haven't you sworn an oath?" Lezard demanded. "Haven't you promised to aid all who need you? To never turn your back on the wounded?"

Eir hesitated, the truth of his words stabbing into her like daggers. She had promised, Eir never wanting anyone to suffer if there was something she could do about it.

"Hmph. I should have known that was all lies." He scoffed then. "You are like all the other Gods...caring only for yourself."

"That's not true!" Eir snapped at him.

"Then where were you when she was suffering?"!

"SHE?" Eir asked sharply.

"Lenneth Valkyrie."

She felt weak at the name he had said, Eir sure her face had paled of it's color. "She, Lenneth, is the one you want me to help?"

The earthquakes were coming faster, and were stronger in power. Even Lezard and Eir had a difficult time remaining standing during them.

Holding her gaze, Lezard nodded.

"I don't know if I can."

"Don't know, or don't want to?" Lezard demanded. She felt as though he had hit her, Eir shocked by what he was implying. "Tell me Goddess, where were you when Lenneth was being raped and beaten? Why did you not lift a hand to help her then, to end her torment? Or did you not care?"

"I..."

"I was wrong to come here. Stupid to think you would help her." Lezard was already dismissing her, moving to teleport away.

"I cared!" Eir called out, her tone frantic, almost desperate. "I cared more than you can imagine! But what good could I do when I lacked the power to save her?"

Lezard had paused, though he wasn't saying anything.

"As a woman, do you think I liked standing around while Lenneth was tortured and abused, passed around like nothing more than a possession to be used?" Eir shook her head. "I HATED it. But there was nothing I could do. Odin would have swatted me down like a bug if I had tried!"

"Then make up for your inaction and help her now!" Lezard shouted over the sounds of the earthquake.

Eir closed her eyes. "Yes."

"Lady Eir, no!" Miress and the other einherjar were protesting, even as Lezard let out a victorious hiss. But she wouldn't let him touch her, Eir opening her eyes.

"I have a condition."

"Of course." He said it so bitterly, she almost regretted asking him to pay her price.

"I can't just leave the people here."

"You have a staff of healers do you not?" Lezard asked.

"I will not abandon my staff, or the people that rely on us all." Eir told him. "This island is not long for this world...you can sense it, can't you? The earthquakes growing stronger. It won't be long before it falls, taking the building and the people with it. Before that happens, I want you to help me save everyone here. To move them to a safer location." Her chin raised, her eyes holding a stubborn light. "Those are my conditions."

Was it the stubborn look she gave him that let Lezard know how serious Eir was about this? He let out a put upon sigh, his own eyes angry. "Fine. I will do this, but only because you will help Lenneth."

"I will try." Eir said, wanting him to understand he might be hoping for a miracle no one could grant.

"You WILL succeed." He insisted, his tone and look ominous. "Or else!" Lezard didn't have to clarify what the or else meant, Eir's mind creative enough to guess at the kind of punishment this new God would deal out. It made Eir shiver, even as she was grateful for the chance to save everyone currently inside the hall of healing. Eir tried not to let doubts fill her, that made her think she had just made a deal with the devil himself.

Damn this chapter became one that did not want to end! I want to thank my friend TenJP. Valkyrie Profile is not her usual universe (She is a Voltron lady true and true!), but she gave Spoils a chance. And then asked me about what if Lezard could get some kind of healer for Lenneth. That promptly sent my mind reeling with the possibilities, and thus the element of Eir as therapist to Lenneth came about. And now my friend is asking about the possibility of Eir getting a love interest too! XD

For the life of me, I could not remember what the bow and sword were called. And I was too lazy to skim through Lezard's Triumph which I know I had Lezard collecting all four treasures in it...My friend Huntress wasn't one hundred percent sure, but she thought it might be the Sylvan Bow, and the demon sword Levantine...but since neither one of us remember for sure, I wrote the mentions of it in a way that I didn't have to write the names in.

Now I am imagining next chapter is a Lezard POV...though I also think maybe it should be a Lenneth POV...so I got some things to figure out about which POV I should do it as...there's things I want to show from both their views...X_X

-Michelle 

Moi Fah, hello! And welcome back! It's fine, we all tend to disapear from time to time. Life gets in the way, that sort of thing. Good to see you back though! I giggle, cause yes it is such torture for Lezard! XD But then I sober up when I think it's a torture of a different kind for Lenneth. *face palm*

Ah...the only two characters to play off of, that they're so isolated tends to be what trips me up with this pairing. Plus add to the fact the games didn't give us much Lezard Lenneth time together moments...so it's hard. I mean in my other fandom, even though Lotor and Allura didn't have that much time together (But more than LezaLenne) they had stuff happening because of their actions, they heard or knew what the other was doing. So then when it comes time to throw them together in a scenario, I can always have the cannon happenings help them along. Of course, now I feel like I'm bungling up my explanation of this something awful. Suffice it to say, some of my early Voltron fics, I had them say to each other things that happened in the show which was a direct result of their actions. That sort of thing. It was good for when I didn't know what kind of conversations to have them have.

I've been meaning to reread Stolen, and see if I can't get unstuck. Problem is...and I wrote a little about it in my updated bio for this site...Stolen was started back when I was...well feeling stressed/pressured to write lighter stuff. To write happier Lezard Lenneth stuff. My original idea for Stolen was going to be a darker fic...but I let my anxiety over how others were perceiving my writings stop me from it. But a while back I took a "The hell with it, screw them" attitude. The attitude that I'm gonna write what I want, and if they don't like it, fuck 'em.

So I've been thinking I might do Stolen over again with it's orignal intent. Not one hundred percent sure on that though. I thought I might do both...the Stolen that you've read, with it's more light hearted take, and then do the dark fic version. But we will see. Let's just say if I hadn't taken the "Screw them" attitude, stories like Inescapable and Spoils of the Heart would not be on this site. I would have worried too much about the negative reactions.

I don't think you were slow in not realizing just who he was planning to kidnap. Hopefully you liked the Eir POV. Plus her POV this chapter, let me fill in the readers on what is happening in the world outside of Lezard's closed realm. :)

Ruvian, Lezard mentioned to Lenneth in chapter two that he killed them. So Brahms, Silmeria, Hrist, Arngrim, Rufus, and Alicia are dead, dead, dead. And no, the other two Valkyries weren't treated the way Lenneth was. She was considered a special creation of Odin's, a special weapon and punching bag. =/

I write fast enough. Considering I do this in my free time, and don't get paid for it, updates will continue to be slow.


	10. Chapter 10

A strangled gasp was the only sound Lezard made, reality splitting apart, spitting him from one world to the next. He wasn't the only thing to be expelled, a sizeable piece of Asgard riding along with him through the journey between worlds. That piece now hovered below him, Eir's hall and the island it had rested on, waiting for the decision Lezard had to make.

Lezard scowled at the sight of it. At the reminder that it was. A reminder that insisted he was growing soft, that his mind had become so addled with concern for Lenneth, that Lezard was now doing things he would never have even considered before. His scowl deepened, his expression one of resentment and disgust. This island, along with the people inside it's building, shouldn't be here. No part of Asgard should ever have tainted his world, and it was perhaps that strong feeling inside him, that had caused the initial resistance between the two worlds.

Certainly the island had been more difficult to move than he had anticipated. It had been as though the two worlds were rejecting each other, neither one wanting to merge with even a small piece of the other. But Lezard had imposed his will on them both, forcing his world to accept the island and the people on it. Just as he had willed it, it had been done, but at a cost to him, Lezard drained of energy to the point he allowed himself to drop down to the island's surface. Somehow he managed to keep from falling to his knees, Lezard exhausted but hiding it.

He'd leave the problem of just where to put the island later, Lezard allowing it to hover several hundred feet over his crystal palace for now. It was as good a place as any, considering the fact that Lezard wasn't sure he'd be allowing the island to remain in his world for long. Though just the thought of moving it back, of the energy such a feat would require, had Lezard groaning out loud.

His exaggerated moan was swallowed up by excited voices, people drawing near to the wreckage that had once been the large double doors that had served as entrance to the hall of healing. Eir, and the einherjar that served as her private guard, were hurrying outside, their eyes wide with wonder and excitement as they beheld the new world for the first time.

Not even the awe, and the admiration they expressed, could improve Lezard's foul mood. He was too conscious of his exhaustion, of the drain on his energies, and the fact that these men and women were intruders to his world. Vermin who had never been meant to walk upon it's lands.

Vermin he couldn't wait to be rid of, Lezard openly scowling at the group. They didn't notice, the men and women hurrying to the edges of the island. Peering over the sides, some pointing at various landmarks that had caught their attention. And there was many, from the crystal catacombs, to the sparkling waters of a nearby waterfall. The emerald forest stretched on in all directions, the crystal palace at the heart of it's center. The land was unbroken by any other signs of civilization, untainted beauty, wild and free of man's touch. Lezard wanted it to remain that way, wanted it to continue to be his pristine and perfect paradise.

But he'd deal with what little effect these people had on his world a hundred times over if it meant Lenneth could be helped. It was after all the only reason he had agreed to Eir's conditions. The only reason why any of these people were here, unwelcome though they were.

She felt it when his gaze turned her way, Eir seeming to stiffen. The woman besides her noticed, the warrior turning to cast her glare Lezard's way. He thought her impertinent, a fool for not showing the proper amount of respect for the God who had just saved her miserable hide. And not just her, but pretty much everyone else on the island!

At least Eir seemed properly grateful. The Goddess may not have like Lezard very much, but even she recognized the value of what he had done. The gift he had given her patients, the time needed to heal, or to fade away peacefully. In Asgard they wouldn't have gotten the chance to do either, the island's situation that dire. It had been minutes away from falling, the seconds counting down so fast Lezard hadn't had any other option than to take the people and their island with him.

Certainly there had been no time to teleport each individual away, not with only two Gods present. Lezard wasn't sure of the exact number of people crowded into the hall, but it had to be close to three hundred. That number would lessen considerably as the worst off patients faded, their souls going to whatever rewards they had earned over the course of their long servitude.

The fact that many of Eir's patients would soon be dead, soothed Lezard's own agitation about having so many unwanted guests in his world. Especially guests that were warriors, Lezard conscious of what had happened the last time a group of warriors had set foot in his world. That group had been much smaller, seven in all counting Lenneth. But what they lacked in size, they had made up for with their sheer determination, their desire to right the wrongs they felt Lezard had committed.

It was a short list, the so called crimes he had committed really acts of liberation. Had he not freed them all from the fates Odin had decided for them? Had not Rufus and Alicia gotten the chance to live, rather than die at the top of Yggsdrasil like Odin, like history itself, demanded? Brahms had been freed of an eternity long persecution, Odin his long time enemy dead. The Valkyries themselves free of the rules and servitude Odin required of them. And yet none of them had been grateful, actually daring to lift their weapons against him. He hadn't known what they had thought to accomplish. Nor had he cared at the time to find out, Lezard having moved to eliminate the enemies before him. Only the smallest twinge of regret lingered, Lezard not having wanted to kill those he had come to view as friends.

But he hadn't let that imagined friendship stop him from taking care of the threat to his happiness. The happiness he had strove for all these years. A happiness he was still chasing after, one he would never reach so long as Lenneth continued to let her own pain and past tear her up from the inside out. Only once Lenneth could be free of both's power, could they move on to enjoying their eternity together.

He wanted that so badly. Wanted the life he had envisioned for them both. It moved him to be willing to do just about anything, softened his own demeanor to the point he had agreed to Eir's conditions rather than force the Goddess to his world. And Lezard knew he could have forced her, having tasted enough of Eir's power to know the Goddess didn't come close to matching his own strength. But there was something to be said about gratitude, about having a favor owed. And Eir owed him big for what he had done, a debt Lezard intended to make full use of.

With that darkly satisfying thought in mind, Lezard began stalking towards Eir. The swords woman who seemed determined to shadow Eir's every step, continued to glare in Lezard's direction. No doubt if she had retained her sword, she would have drawn it now in an open display of hostility. Even without the sword, she conveyed her intent, the woman both protective of the Goddess and mistrusting of Lezard.

It really made him want to swat her down, though he crushed such dark impulses. Besides, even with a sword, the warrior woman had proven no match for Lezard's power. And now, weaponless, bleeding, even limping, she stood little chance of doing much of anything. That knowledge sparked a smirk, Lezard meeting head on the warrior's gaze. Her anger only grew, the woman trying to cow Lezard into looking away.

Her glare couldn't compare to the ones Lenneth had once given him, his beloved Goddess a master at inspiring exquisite sensations to shiver through him. The expressions Lenneth had worn, the icy anger, the disdain, was on a whole other level from this woman before him. Where Lenneth made glaring an art form, this warrior made it a crude show of tantrum.

"Your world is very beautiful." Eir's voice broke into his thoughts, the Goddess softly appreciative. The einherjar who stood next to the Goddess, blinked, breaking the staring contest as she turned to gape at Eir.

"What do you mean, his world?"

"Haven't you realized, Miress?" Eir asked the warrior. "This land with all it's wonderful sights...it is not found in any of the realms of Odin's Creation."

The Goddess was perceptive, Lezard nodding to himself. Miress was frowning, casting her gaze over the edge of the island.

"Have you ever heard of anything like this, in all of the nine realms?" Eir asked her, and Miress gave a grudging acquiescence.

"No...But surely..." Miress was shaking her head, as though trying to deny the idea of them being in another world.

"I can assure you, this is not some undiscovered part of Creation." Lezard interjected smugly. That earned him an angry look from Miress, the swords woman not at all impressed. It was as though she was purposefully denying the truth before her, not wanting to acknowledge the power Lezard might have.

"It's a new world Miress." Eir said it softly, trying to ease the woman warrior into the concept. "A new kingdom for a new God."

"How is that possible?" Miress demanded, and it was Lezard who answered, his voice holding relish to it.

"Because I inherited Odin's power."

"Inherited?" Miress scoffed, and even Eir raised an eyebrow in challenge. "More like stole!"

His manner was dismissive, Lezard unconcerned with the accusation. "I bested Odin in fair combat." A smile played at the corner of his lips, Lezard remembering the shock and horror on both Odin and Freya's faces when they realized it was no mere mage the God had faced.

"How is that even possible?" Miress demanded. "Just who are you? Why have we never heard of a God like you before?"

"The details are mine to keep." Lezard retorted. The smile spread on his face, Lezard almost mocking now. "Perhaps Freya will share the truth with you." But he knew the Goddess never would, if only to prevent any of the lesser beings from getting ideas to attempt what Lezard had. Not that they could, not easily. Not without the philosopher's stone, and the power of a Valkyrie fueling them.

Miress all but hissed at him, the woman knowing well how futile it would be for an einherjar to question the Goddess Freya. And that was provided she made it back to the world Odin had created.

Eir placed a hand on Miress' arm, trying to calm the warrior with her touch. Miress was still displeased, still visibly tense even with Eir's attempt to soothe her. Lezard didn't care, his attention going to Eir.

"Come Goddess. There are things we must discuss before you visit with Lenneth."

"A moment Lezard." Eir said, glancing down at her fingertips which bore the faintest trace of blood. "I would see to Miress' injuries."

"Someone else can take care of that."

"Our healers are busy enough tending to the ill and injured." Eir pointed out. "I would not take them away to tend to something I can easily manage on my own."

"There are others who need your care more than me, my lady." Miress quickly added, giving Lezard a look that made him think she was purposefully causing trouble. "Vlad and Eulia, and the others of your guard."

"They will have to wait." Lezard told them, and Miress' temper burst.

"It is your fault they were injured in the first place!"

"It is thanks to me they even still live!" Lezard retorted. He turned his glare on Eir. "Need I remind you if not for me, this island and the people on it would all be crushed in the fall to Midgard?"

"I am well aware of what we owe you." Eir said, tone and manner stiff.

"Then leave off with these attempts to delay, and come with me!" Lezard snapped.

"Miress, how bad are things?" Eir's question garnered a grudging admittance from Miress.

"Aside from Eulia? Everyone else is in manageable condition."

"Then please...escort Eulia to the nearest healer. Make sure they understand to spare no effort in their attempts to help mend his injuries."

"Lady Eir, no! Do not let this God bully you away from your duties!" Miress protested.

"I have a duty to him as well." Eir told her. "I bought us all a reprieve. The least I can do is see to the task he sets before me."

""If it's all decided then..." Lezard was already reaching for Eir's arm.

"Then allow me to come with you!" Miress exclaimed.

"That would not be wise." said Lezard, not hiding his displeasure at the thought of Miress accompanying them into the crystal palace.

Miress fixed Lezard with a fierce look. "I will not allow my lady to go unguarded with the likes of you!"

There was many things Lezard could have said in response to that, but he chose the simplest truth. "You don't have a choice." Before Miress could do more than sputter out the first syllables of her protest, Lezard was teleporting away. His hand's grip on Eir's arm, ensured the Goddess went with him, the two landing on the rooftop of the crystal palace.

"Lady Eir!" Even this far down, they could faintly hear the angry cries of the einherjar, Miress peering over the island's edge as though she would leap down from it. But such an act would have resulted in anyone but a God's death, the island simply floating too high up for such a jump to be feasible to a mortal soul.

"Was that really necessary?" demanded Eir, pulling free of Lezard's grip.

"She was wasting time." Lezard retorted.

"Time is the one thing we Gods have an abundance of." Eir pointed out.

"Not all of us were born into that kind of luxury."

Eir's interest was piqued, Lezard finding himself the focus of curious blue eyes. "What were you before you took Odin's power? You were not a God, not even of the Vanir sort."

"Does it even matter?"

"It might." Eir said. "Certainly it might help me understand better what is going on, and how I can help Lenneth."

It was the right words to get Lezard to consider telling her the truth. Or at least part of it. "What I tell you goes no farther."

"Of course."

"Swear to me, on your unbreakable oath that you will not use this information in any way against me, that you seek not to displace me of my power, instead only wanting to use what you can to help Lenneth heal." He narrowed his eyes at her, noticing the hesitation in the Goddess' eyes. "Swear to me Eir! Swear on all you hold sacred!"

"I..." A nervous swallow, Eir wetting her lips with her tongue. "I swear it. I will not betray you."

He made no actual threats, Lezard not needing to spell it out to Eir what would happen should she break her oath. The Goddess could already guess what Lezard would do, how he would strike at the people who mattered most to Eir. He'd never have to lift a hand against her, instead striking at the people who still clung to life inside the hall of healing.

Reassured of Eir's obediance, Lezard still found it difficult to start. And all because he wasn't used to sharing information freely. Certainly he never told anyone anything of value without it holding some benefit to himself. He had never been the type to just confide in another, not even when he had had the need to boast about his discoveries and plans. Even the need to consult with another, to gain a fresh perspective on a problem, had been something he had avoided.

Lezard could count the times on one hand where he had simply shared knowledge for the joy of it, And those few times, those he had confided in, had ended up dead by his own design. Mystina had been one such confidant, and Lezard had killed the sorceress shortly after sharing with her some of the knowledge he had gained thanks in part to the philosopher's stone.

It hadn't been just a jealous, careful guarding of information that had led to the sorceress' death. Back then he had felt Mystina a danger, the only mortal who might hold the power to upset his plans. But still, Lezard had enjoyed confiding in her, sharing his discoveries, reveling in the awe she had expressed, in how impressed the sorceress had been with his theories.

Lezard was in a different place now, holding more power than he had ever held as a human. And still he was wary, reluctant to reveal even a few details of what he had done, or what he had once been. If Eir felt any impatience at the delay, she hid it well, keeping a blue gaze on him that was both curious and worried. But she didn't rush him to speak, letting Lezard take his time on deciding how best to unload on her.

"I was not born a God it's true." He finally said, Lezard locking eyes with Eir. His gaze was downright defiant, challenging the Goddess to find reason to look down upon him. "I did not even have the fortune to be born of one of the immortal races."

Eir's lips parted in a silent gasp, her eyes widening in shocked realization. "Human...you were human."

A nod from him. "A minor limitation, one I quickly overcame."

"But..." Eir's brow furrowed. "But how?" A shake of her blonde hair, Eir taking a step back at the dark look Lezard gave her. "A human with such power..a human able to rival even one God, let alone the King of all Creation? Odin would have sensed that potential long before it could develop into a threat, and would have eliminated you."

"Yes, I've no doubt the Odin of this time would have had no such problem in doing just that." A slow smile, a taunting smirk. "But the Odin of the future had far too much on his plate to pay attention to any one human. The many wars, over seeing the decline of Midgard, preparing for Ragnarok. Not to mention the attempted theft of the divine treasures."

"His enemies were increasing by the number, most of his valkyries all but lost to him. Poor Lenneth was run ragged, burdened not only with the work Odin demanded of her, but with that of Hrist and Silmeria's." He scowled now, Lezard trying not to think on what kind of sick demands Odin would have made on Lenneth, in addition to her many duties in the months leading up to Ragnarok.

Eir was actually gaping at him, blue eyes shocked. Lezard busied himself inspecting his jacket for imperfections, fingers plucking at loose threads. "Of course, I hadn't yet come into even a fraction of the power needed to rid us all of that tyrant. I wouldn't have been able to stay under his radar otherwise. But still...Odin was very careless in not destroying the forbidden magics, in allowing key artifacts to remain unsealed. In a way, I suppose I have him to thank for all this."

"What...?" Eir seemed incapable of forming a coherent sentence. "How...?"

"I won't be sharing with you, with anyone what those artifacts were that allowed me to reach pass the limits of my mortality, and become a being capable of taking Odin's power." Lezard told her. "It is knowledge that is not needed to help Lenneth."

Eir blinked repeatedly and rapidly, shaking her head slowly. "You're from the future?" She finally said, and Lezard nodded.

"From a time just past Ragnarok, where Creation was destroyed only to be remade by it's savior, it's Queen."

"Queen?" Eir's eyes stopped their rapid blinking, the Goddess gasping in realization. "You don't mean...Lenneth?"

"My beloved Goddess is a far better Creator than Odin could ever hope to be. Kind, caring, merciful. She nurtured and blessed the humans, LOVED them." He allowed himself a genuine smile, the warmth in Lezard's eyes softening his harsh expression. "She was perfect, and there could be no greater a time for mortals to exist than under Lenneth's benevolent rule."

"Then why?" Eir's words chased the warmth from Lezard's expression, the God all but glaring now. "Why would you ever seek to ruin that?"

"I sought nothing more than to be with her." Lezard snapped. "To be with the woman, the Goddess, who has firm hold of my heart. There was no way I could content myself to be just a faceless number in a crowd of millions who adored her. Who clamored for her attention and had no right to it or her!"

"And you think you alone have the right to it?" Eir demanded.

"If not me, then who?" Lezard countered with a snarl.

"That is up to Lenneth to decide." Eir retorted. "Not you!"

"Maybe so." Lezard saw that he had surprised Eir with that response. "But I had to at least even the playing field, so that at last she would notice me. It...It was the only way, the only chance for us to be together..."

Another shake of Eir's head, the Goddess visibly distressed. "You are mad! Crazy, to have done this."

"Ah but who isn't made just a little crazy by love?" Lezard asked, and Eir practically snorted.

"You think this is love?" Eir scoffed then. "Don't be absurd! If anything, I think you are afflicted with the same madness that all the others who have pursued Lenneth suffered with." The look the Goddess gave him, strongly implied she didn't think it was good company to be included amongst.

"Careful Eir..." Lezard warned her. "You are dreadfully close to going too far with your words."

"I go not far enough then!" Eir snapped. "Tell me Lezard, how would you be any better than Odin, than Surt, then Hel? Then any of the number who have hurt Lenneth in the past?"

"Do not compare me to any of those pathetic wretches!" Lezard roared at her, Eir visibly flinching in response to the sound of his unrestrained anger. "Not after all they have done to her, all the pain and humiliation they have piled onto Lenneth. The hurt they have done, the damage they have done her both soul and spirit is immense and unforgivable!"

Eir was frightened by his anger, but not cowed into submission, her blue eyes flashing with her bravery. "I do not deny what they have done is unspeakable, evil. But from the sound of it, you have done your own fair share of wrong against her! So tell me Lezard. Tell me how you will be any different from them?"

"I..." The anger that he felt, the unbearable rage that had come upon him at being likened to Lenneth's past tormentors, all but died as he realized he did not know what to say in response to Eir's heated question. "I cannot..." He all but sagged, the fight abruptly leaving him. "How can I promise you anything, when it is a question I have had to ask myself...a question I struggle with, especially now that I know just what it is she has been through."

Eir's eyes were bright blue, her expression showing not one ounce of sympathy. She was so angry, all but glaring at him as she waited perhaps in vain for Lezard to stumble upon the right words.

"I've done her wrong." Lezard acknowledged. "I've destroyed the future, the utopia she's created. But more than that, I've taken from her the only true peace she's ever known. I hate that the fact that Lenneth has withdrawn into herself, that she tries to seal off her emotions, is a direct result of my actions. But I can't. won't let her go. I can't restore the future to what it was, can't give back Lenneth's peace of mind that way. It's selfish, and it shames me to acknowledge that side of me, but I am trying. Trying at least to keep from sinning against her any further."

It had been a struggle to keep on holding Eir's gaze, Lezard almost wanting to look down in shame. The anger, and the accusing look had not lessened in strength, Eir so disapproving of Lezard, of his actions, of his very self.

"I want...I need, I am asking you to help." Lezard finally said. "Lenneth has needs, and it's become painfully apparent that I can't fulfill them. Not at this time, not when I serve as nothing more than a painful reminder to what she's lost."

"Can you even promise me you won't just undo all the progress I make with her?" Eir's look was searching. "I won't try to heal her, only to have her break at your hands..."

"I will do my best to abuse her no farther." Lezard promised stiffly. Eir continued to study him, as though she could somehow gauge the truth by looks alone. Several minutes of her intense regard would happen, a small eternity for Lezard to wait for Eir's answer. But at last she seemed to relax, giving him an agreeing nod. Lezard practically wilted on the spot with relief, and not even Eir's quick admonishments could keep his hopes from building.

To Be Continued...

So...a few months ago I got as far as 16 KB with the writing of this chapter. Then I got inspired with how to advance a Voltron story (or two or three) and had to put this chapter on hold. But Voltron is not completely to blame...I wasn't looking forward to Lezard trying to explain anything to Eir...It left me feeling very uninspired...I finally came back, but while I like the first 16 Kb, I feel like the rest of the chapter sucks.

It also didn't get to the end point I was aiming for. Originally I wanted Eir and Lenneth to go inside a room for therapy, and have Eir firmly shut the door in a shocked Lezard's face! (Shocked cause he had planned on being present for this therapy session! XD) I still may be able to do that moment in a future chapter...we shall see.

Don't know which fic I'll be working on next. Wanted to get this chapter finished, and then reread some of my other VP stories. See which one I can be inspired for...it might be this one, it might not be. We shall see!

-Michelle

Miss D, well I was...*sheepish look* I got sorta side tracked in the middle of ten to work on something else...but also...wasn't exactly looking forward to the talk Eir and Lezard had to have in 10...I feel like I messed it up somehow...-_-

I'm scared of the healing process...the writing of it. X_X *dies* There won't always be direct Lezard Lenneth interaction in every chapter...though hopefully you'll be somewhat content that Lezard is thinking of her, and doing what he does in order to help her, so that then they can get closer. XD But next chapter really should be a Eir Lenneth chapter, and I am DREADING it, dreading it I say! Absolutely. X_X

What's really driving me nuts is I've been wanting to write something smutty for weeks now. And almost none of my stories are at the point where something smutty can happen! *flails* Not even the Voltron fics. I suppose there's Caged Bird...but...I kinda wanted to write consensual smut right now. So we shall see what happens. Anyway, thanks and sorry for the wait. I want to focus more on my VP stories for the summer at least...I've been having such a hard time even with my Voltron stories...it's like I can't get motivated to write more than a chapter here and there. And it kills me to be so slow in writing. =/


End file.
